Lost and Found
by md92
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy's been dead for three years. Nobody knows this better than Rose. Once begrudging partners in Auror training, Rose and Scorpius formed a surprising friendship -and perhaps more- just before his untimely end. Now, just months before Rose's wedding, the past resurfaces again, threatening all she knows to be true, and giving a second chance at what she wanted all along.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I would like to say a quick few words before I begin this! Sorry, just bear with me for a second.**

 **1\. This does not in ANY way mean that I am abandoning _Happy Accidents._ It just means that Rose and Scorp aren't quite cooperating in my brain recently and have been forcing me to write this instead. When I finish this, I will go back to it, and finish it. Pinky promise.**

 **2\. This story is going to be told in both the present and the past, probably present/past/present/past and so on and so forth. I will put the dates at the top of every page and try my hardest not to make it too confusing.**

 **3\. I do not in any way, shape, or form own any of the recognizable places, characters, or events in this novel. All belongs to the beautifully talented JKR.**

 **4\. Thanks y'all! R &R :)**

* * *

 _Present Day._

 _May 4, 2029_

* * *

" _These are the best days of my life,_ " Rose Weasley reminded herself firmly, stifling a yawn as her future mother-in-law held up yet another blue china pattern. The older woman waited for a response, and Rose hummed wordlessly, giving neither assent or otherwise. Truthfully, she wondered if the older woman was making a joke. The pattern on the plate looked exactly like the last three she'd been shown.

"Well, that's every plate in the shop," Mrs. Archibald – no, she had insisted Rose call her _Fiona_ – tittered, trying not to be annoyed, Rose could tell. "I give up, dear!"

Rose, who truthfully cared not a whit about china patterns or ornamental vases, or anything else in this shop, smiled apologetically at the other woman. She did feel bad, truly she did, but her feet were killing her from shopping all day, and if she didn't get some food inside of her quickly, she was going to faint.

Sensing she was fighting a losing battle, Mrs. Arch- _Fiona_ – sighed, hitching her handbag higher onto her shoulder and checking her shiny silver wristwatch as she did so. She tutted. "It's nearly time to meet Simon for tea!" She looked up at Rose, her mouth stretched into a forced smile that seemed to be more menacing than friendly. "Time sure does fly when you're having fun, doesn't it, dear?"

Rose was sure the smile she offered back was just as tight.

* * *

When the ladies reached the café on the outskirts of Mayfair, Simon was already waiting for them with a table. He kissed both women on their cheeks, lingering for a while on Rose's so that she blushed a horrid shade of red. As he pulled out her chair for her, Rose noticed that her fiancé had already taken the liberty of ordering teas for the women, as well as a couple cakes for the table. Rose gratefully took one upon sitting, frowning when she saw raisins inside of it. Not seeming to notice her distaste, Simon sat back in his chair and dropped a cake into his mouth, smiling at his mother as he chewed.

"So, how did my best girls get on today on your shopping trip?" he asked, his eyes alight as he glanced from Rose to his mother, and back again.

Neither woman seemed able to disappoint him by detailing how the day actually had gone.

Rose listened halfheartedly as Fiona prattled on about cushions and wedding registries and floral arrangements, and picked the raisins from her cake, one by one. Her future mother-in-law meant well, but the world in which Rose had grown up in was (literally) miles away from Simon's. Being muggleborn, and born into a certain amount of wealth, no less, meant that his family's expectations for this wedding were far different from her own. If she, Rose, had had her way, they would be having the ceremony at her grandparents' home in Ottery St. Catchpole. It was where every one of her family members had gotten married before, as far back as she could remember.

Instead, the event was to be held at the church Simon's family went to. It was an old Baroque building, ancient and grand and ostentatious in its very nature. Fiona had insisted on the very best and most elaborate bouquets and pillars of flowers to decorate the venue, where 300 of their closest friends and family would gather in just under two months' time.

Sometimes Rose forgot that this wedding was, in fact, her own.

As Fiona and Simon continued to talk - Rose noted idly that now the conversation had turned to catering – she took the time to study her fiancé. She could only see the profile of his face at this angle, but even with the limited view it was very clear how handsome he was. Everything about him oozed masculinity. His jawline was square, his nose sturdy. Even his blue eyes twinkled with an intensity that belayed his inner strength. The positive qualities stretched further than his looks were concerned, as well. He had a good, steady job as a Healer at St. Mungo's, and he took his grandmother out for lunch at least once a month.

He was strong, and he was safe.

She had always noticed him, even at Hogwarts, though she was certain that he'd only seen her as another redheaded Weasley at that point in their lives. He'd been two years ahead of her in school, Head Boy, and all-around dream boat. Rose had been shy and bookish, hiding behind her large family so that she didn't have to have an identity of her own.

Somehow, a few years after Hogwarts, they had met at a ministry function and hit it off spectacularly, to everybody's surprise. Rose could remember the night as clearly as if it had been yesterday. It had been a cloudless, beautiful night, and Rose recalled that the summer air had felt crisper than usual, hinting at an early autumn. The function paid honor to her Uncle Harry, whom St. Mungo's hospital had named their most recent wing after. She had felt awkward in the robes her cousin Lily had lent her to wear, and somehow out of place, even among friends and family. It had been the first time she'd gone to a public event since…

Rose shook her head, mentally berating herself. It had been so long since she'd allowed herself to think of that time in her life, the accident. So long since she'd allowed herself to think of _him._

"… and Rose would love the chance to spend time with her for the next few weeks, wouldn't you, darling?"

"Hmm?" Rose asked, snapping out of her private thoughts, silently praying to Merlin that Mrs. Archibald hadn't noticed her lack of attention to the conversation. A quick glance at the older woman told her that Merlin had ignored her plea for help.

Simon frowned, an unattractive wrinkle marring his otherwise beautiful face.

"I was just telling Mother," he said slowly, "that you would be more than happy to keep Annette company whilst she is in London for the wedding."

Annette was Simon's younger sister, who was in her final year studying abroad at Beauxbatons. Much younger than Simon, she was the prodigal baby of the family. Rose had yet to meet her new sister-in-law, but had heard rumors. Annette had attended Hogwarts up until the end of her fourth year, when she mysteriously transferred to the French school of Magic. Simon had never said especially to allude to this, but Rose got the sense that Annette was not as precious and sweet as her family thought.

She swallowed her worries and smiled extra warmly at Simon, for Fiona's benefit. "I would be delighted to," She said.

* * *

Rose could always tell when Albus was at home because of the smells emanating from their flat. The space they shared was not particularly large, just an old brick two bedroom in the North side of Muggle London above an ancient pub. However, despite the limited space, Al had no qualms about turning their flat into his own personal potions lab. As Rose unlocked the front door, she got a strong whiff of overripe garlic and something else unidentifiable. She supposed she could consider herself lucky – the smells were never particularly unpleasant, though they were strong. The muggles in the surrounding flats were under the impression that Al was some sort of chef, or perhaps an eccentric perfume-maker.

"All right?" Rose called to her cousin, whose messy black hair she could just see over the top of his cauldron.

" 'Lo, Rosie" was the muffled reply.

Rose chucked her purse and coat onto the sofa and kicked off her boots. Having done this, she flopped herself onto the couch, exhausted, and promptly summoned a butterbeer. After a few moments of peace, Albus joined her. She summoned another drink, and handed it to him.

"Long day?" Al laughed, accepting his butterbeer with a nod of thanks and then taking a long swig.

"Merlin, it was the worst. I don't think I've ever been so bored in my life, and I sat through seven years of History of Magic."

Al gave a low whistle, and shook his head. "If it's that bad, I don't see why you bother, Rosie." He turned to face his cousin, his green eyes shining brightly in the afternoon sun that shone through their window. "Why don't you just have the wedding at the Burrow and be done with it? All this planning and shopping is making you miserable."

"I have to do it, Al," Rose sighed, looking down at her frothy drink. "Simon and his mum are really close since they lost his father, and I feel like I owe it to her somehow to let her plan this wedding."

Al looked at his cousin long and hard before answering carefully. "I just think that in the months leading up to your own wedding, you should be the one who's happiest about it, that's all."

Rose smiled at her cousin, truly appreciative for his worry. "I am happy, Al." she said.

"All right, all right." Al took a last swig of his butterbeer, then got up and ventured into his bedroom. His voice continued from the other room, "d'ya fancy going round the pub tonight? James mentioned he's off training this week, and wanted to grab a pint. I think Freddie and maybe Rox are planning to join as well."

"Sounds good!" Rose yelled back, tidying up the coffee table. Merlin, Al was a slob. She loved her cousin, and there was nobody else she would rather live with, but he wasn't the easiest flatmate in the world. Where in the bloody hell had he put the book she had been reading earlier?

"…figured we would apparate over to the Leaky at about half six, which would give us about forty-five minutes to…" Albus was still talking from the other room.

Rose, finally giving up on ever finding her novel again, grabbed an upside-down newspaper from the table and yelled over her shoulder to Al, "Is this today's Prophet, here on the table?"

There was a moment as Al thought about her question. His head popped out of his room, as he pulled a jumper over his messy-haired head. "Should be."

Rose laughed at her cousin, and flipped the newspaper over to the front page.

Her heart stopped.

She could feel her breath constricting, like long spindly fingers gripping her throat.

There was a moving picture of a man on the front page. His light-colored hair was long and shaggy, and his sallow skin hung off his hollow body like it didn't quite belong. But when he looked up, there was no mistaking those features, more pointed and angled than they had been before, but still somehow aristocratic. And those eyes. It was just a photograph, but Rose could feel those eyes boring into her soul.

The picture had just one headline, bold-faced and thick-lettered.

 **AUROR SCORPIUS MALFOY RETURNS FROM THE DEAD.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, guys! I wasn't planning on posting again so soon, but I was really excited by the positive response I got from the first chapter, and so I wanted to give you all a little something. From here on out, I am hoping to update around 2 times a week if possible. I have written up to Chapter 7 already, and am just editing as I go so that it's not a complete mush of uninterrupted thought by the time I upload :/**

 **Anyway, Thanks so much for the feedback, and please continue to read and review!**

 **MD**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine!**

* * *

 _Four Years Earlier_

 _August 26, 2025_

* * *

"Go on, have a bit of toast."

"Al, I don't want it."

"You need to build up your strength, Rosie"

"Don't call me that."

"Rosiekins"

"Al…"

"Just humor me and have some breakfast, please?"

Rose finally relented, and allowed her cousin to pile eggs and bits of toast onto her plate. She watched as he did so, feeling supremely nauseated, and finally drew the line when he moved to give her some baked beans. If she had those, they'd just come right up as soon as she reached the Ministry of Magic.

It was her first day of Auror Training, and Rose was beginning to question every decision she'd made that led her up to this point. The endless hours of studying, the struggling through NEWTs level potions classes (thank Merlin she'd had Al as a partner), the months of waiting to see if her application to the Auror training program had been accepted or denied – all of these things felt pointless to her now. She would inevitably turn up and be just another Weasley, like she had been all through her time at Hogwarts.

It was a lose-lose situation. If she showed up and was rubbish, she would be the one faulty link in the otherwise famous and talented family. If she showed up and was great, then it would be no big deal, because it was expected of her. Daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, niece of Harry Potter. People naturally assumed that she was born to succeed.

Or worst-case scenario, her accomplishments would be perceived as some sort of nepotism. Her uncle and her father ran the Ministry's Auror program. If she succeeded in making it through training, would it be because they were soft on her?

Rose's fried eggs threatened to resurface.

Why hadn't she picked a nice, obscure profession? Perhaps she should have been a shopkeeper, preferably at a nice and quiet bookstore. Or a researcher, like Al? Potions research for medical advancement sounded enjoyable enough, along with the added bonus that never had a Weasley or Potter been a potioneer before. Too bad she'd melted every cauldron she'd ever owned.

"Oh, bugger, is that the time?" Al asked, taking off his lavender-colored oven mitt (a housewarming gift from Rose's mum) to check his wristwatch. "Rosie, you've got to go. You don't want to be late for your first day as a big-bad dark wizard catcher!"

Rose watched her cousin silently, pleading with her eyes for him to just Avada her right then and there. Al noticed, and gave her shoulder a bump with his own.

"Relax," he said, his mouth full of sausage, "You'll be brilliant."

* * *

One uncomfortable apparition (Rose would never get used to that sensation), a short elevator ride to Level Two of the Ministry, and thirty minutes later, Rose was shuffled into the Auror training center with the eleven other candidates for the program. She recognized a few faces from her Hogwarts classes, but every time she tried to make eye contact with anyone, she felt her breakfast and bile rising up her throat. For the most part, Rose continued to look down at her trainers as she edged forward with the small crowd of people. Why had she decided to do this again?

"Ouch! Watch where you're going, Weasley!"

Rose's head snapped up to meet the bright grey eyes of Scorpius Malfoy. Rose was momentarily shocked. Since when had he wanted to be an Auror? Sure, she supposed he'd taken all of the required courses right along with her at Hogwarts, but she could hardly imagine the boy she'd known at school having a desire to do good for others – more like make degrading comments and play mean pranks with his mates. Swallowing a sassy retort in her throat, she only had time to mutter a quick _sorry_ before the room had quieted completely. She looked around wildly to see why, her red curls hitting Malfoy in the face as she did so. He grumbled yet again.

A voice came from the center of the room.

"Constant Vigilance."

Rose knew that voice. She whipped around to see her Uncle standing among the crowd of Auror trainees. Most of them backed up in awe of the famous Harry Potter.

If Harry noticed their stunned silence, he did not show it. He continued speaking, "A great man once told me that Constant Vigilance was the key to being a great Auror. It took me a few years to realize it, but he was right." Rose's uncle made his way through the parted crowd, and waved his wand lazily. A handful of chairs appeared out of midair. Rose took a seat in the front row. Annoyingly, Malfoy was right beside her.

Harry continued to speak.

"I will not lie to you, and I will not sugarcoat anything. Auror training is hard. It's tough and it's grueling and disheartening at times, and not just because people get injured or die in the field," - the room was eerily quiet by now – "but also because of the sheer amount of workload and stress that naturally comes with the job."

Harry's eyes swept across the crowd as he spoke, and Rose was in awe. She had never seen her uncle quite so in his element before.

"Many of you will not make it through training, let alone this first month. I do not say this to dishearten you, I say this to challenge you. There are twelve of you here that we have accepted into training out of hundreds of applicants. Historically, we take perhaps three of you into the force upon completion of training. Every year on the first day, I challenge the group to be the first year where we accept every single one of you." He sighed heavily, and for the first time, Rose could see her uncle's age. Were those grey hairs on his temples new, or had they been there before? He continued, "I have been the head of this Auror Office now for nearly twenty years now, and that challenge has yet to be met. Good luck."

With that, he strode out of the room. Rose could swear he sent a wink in her direction before he closed the large double doors behind him. A somber silence followed the dull _thud_ of the doors.

"All right, on your feet, everybody! Time to show us what you've got." A perky, petite blonde in Aurors robes stood in front of the crowd, breaking the silence. She was accompanied by a middle-aged man with a thick scar running down the side of his face. Rose wondered idly if she would look that worse for wear by the time she was done with training.

"My name is Jones, and this here is Pitts. We are going to be training you for the next three years, so I suggest you get accustomed to Pitts' pretty face, there." Her voice was much deeper and gruffer than Rose had expected. She had a feeling this Jones woman was not the little wisp of a girl she looked like.

Pitts was speaking now, "For the next week we will be judging your skills in all areas; combat, logic, stealth and tracking, charmswork, code breaking, forensics, concealment and disguise, and all-around physical ability. When we have made a proper assessment, then we will assign each of you a partner. This is your partner for the entire course of your training. Your partner is your other half, and your best friend. They will be with you through this entire process. Often times, if both halves of the partnership make it onto the force, they will continued to be assigned together." He paused, as if he knew the impact his words were making on the trainees. "There will be no reassignments, end of. Learn to work with each other, or not at all." He finished, with a slight smirk. The shiny skin around his scar seemed to stretch as he smiled.

"What are we waiting for? Let's get to work."

* * *

The next week of Rose's life was easily the most difficult seven days she had ever experienced. She knew the rumors surrounding the Auror training program, and how difficult it could be, but she could not have prepared herself for the amount of physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion she felt by the final day. The trainees had spent 18 hours of every day doing strength training and skill assessments, put to the test in dangerous simulations, running on little sleep. The only thing great about it was all the free food they were getting from the Ministry – though it was admittedly getting to the point where Rose could no longer taste her food, she was so ravenous and ate so quickly.

She was disheartened that she wasn't able to see her father or even her uncle throughout the week, though she thought she caught a glimpse of her father watching their training on the third day. However, by the time she turned towards the flash of red hair, he was gone.

Rose did, however, get to spend a large amount of her time in the company of her fellow trainees. Though she recognized a few from her Hogwarts classes, there were only two that she knew very well. One was a very handsome boy, Ewan Campbell, who'd been in her class in Gryffindor and was a beater on their Quidditch team. He had been rather popular and had dated her cousin Lily for a very short time. Rose thought he was nice, if not a bit cocky.

There was a girl from Hufflepuff, whom Rose used to occasionally do rounds with on prefect duty. Her name was Sarah Ainsley, and was a very plain but sweet girl whom Rose got on quite well with. Secretly, she hoped that she might be paired up with Sarah as partners.

Though the week was strenuous, Rose was pleased to see that she was clearly one of the more prepared and talented trainees. Apart from stealth and tracking, where her innate clumsiness seemed to be a hindrance, and concealment and disguise (she just could not, for the life of her, seem to be able to completely charm all of the red out of her hair), she flew through the assessments with flying colors.

Annoyingly, so did Scorpius Malfoy.

 _It was unfair_ , Rose decided while studying the blond boy as he sparred with a large boy named Henry (whom Rose estimated would last maybe one more week before quitting) _for someone to be that rich and charming and handsome and talented. He must have some sort of flaw._

As if he were a legilimens and knew her thoughts, Malfoy glanced her way. When he saw she was watching him, he rolled his eyes and sent his trademark smirk, one light eyebrow disappearing into his silver-blonde hair. His dueling opponent took that moment to disarm Malfoy, something he'd been failing to do all week.

 _Ahh yes, there's his Achilles Heel. Arrogance._

"All right, that's a wrap, let's all gather over here" Jones' deep voice was equally shocking every time Rose heard it.

The group of them gathered at the seats that her uncle Harry had magicked only one week before.

"We have spent a long time going over each of your individual strengths and weaknesses, and deciding who would be best partnered with whom. Please know that we are proud of each of you, and excited to continue on into the bulk of your training with us. Your partners are as follows:"

Rose and the others sat with bated breath.

"Boot and McLaggen."

Jason Boot and Prescott McLaggen high fived each other.

"Campbell and York."

Rose let out a sigh of relief. She didn't know if she could have handled Ewan's endless promiscuous jokes if she had been his training partner.

"Singh and Ainsley."

Sarah shot Rose a sad look before she turned to smile at Priya Singh, who sat in the back row and was admittedly extremely good with a wand.

"Malfoy and Weasley."

Rose felt shell shocked. In all of the different scenarios, she never imagined herself partnered with Scorpius Malfoy. Yes, he was quite bright and quick, but there was no way they'd be able to work together. He was arrogant and hot headed, she passive-aggressive and proud. Not to mention the fierce rivalry between their fathers. Hadn't any of this been a consideration when picking partners?

Rose turned to meet Malfoy's steady gaze, his cool aristocratic features set to belay no evidence of what was happening underneath the surface. However, his eyes were stormy and grey, like a tumultuous sea.

This was never going to work.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Please leave a review or constructive criticism! Next chapter should be out in a few days - stay tuned :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Thanks to all who have taken the time to review or follow this story! Means the world to me, genuinely. Here's chapter 3, #4 should be up around Friday! Please leave a review and let me know how you think it's going so far - constructive criticism and suggestions are always more than welcome! -md_**

 **Disclaimer: JKR owns all, I just play in her world.**

* * *

 _Present Day._

 _May 4, 2029_

* * *

Rose could hear her heart beating in her ears. The lights around her seemed blurred, noises dulled and faraway.

Later she would recall that she hadn't even realized she'd apparated to St. Mungo's until she was physically in the reception area.

After a brief second to brush off a question from the witch at the reception desk (Rose flashed the woman her Auror's badge), who popped her Droobles blowing gum a little too loudly in Rose's direction, she started off to the fourth floor. The Eldritch Diggory ward was where the Department of Magical Law Enforcement maintained their own space specially for Aurors injured on duty.

Rose heard the sounds of journalists and paparazzi even before she saw them. As she strode down the long hallway towards the double doors that led to the Diggory ward, one of them turned her way, remarking to his colleague who it was that was coming. Suddenly, there were cries of "Rose Weasley, care to comment?" and "Miss Weasley, is it true that you were there the night Scorpius Malfoy supposedly died?"

Setting her face into a hard line, Rose shouldered past the horde.

When she got beyond the doors – which thankfully the paparazzi were not authorized to do – she took a moment's deep breath and took in her surroundings. The Diggory ward looked as it always had done, the walls a sterile magnolia color, several paintings of famous past Aurors lining its hallways, their wizened old faces staring down at her kindly. A picture of Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin waved at her from the opposite wall, her purple hair shining like a beacon in the otherwise whitewashed room. If it had been any other day, Rose might have stopped for a chat to the portrait, but she had come on a mission.

Suddenly, Rose heard noises from further along the hallway. Her dad and Uncle Harry came into view, heads together and hushed, their faces lined with worry.

"… been hours since he's been awake, Harry. He dropped off just past two this morning, and hasn't been up yet…" Rose strained to hear her father's hushed words, "… perhaps a pepper-up potion or reviving spell…"

Rose edged closer. The two men had yet to notice her presence in the hallway.

"No, Ron," her uncle's voice was strong, not whispered as her father's had been. "I want him to wake up as much as you do, but we still don't know what he's been hit with. We shouldn't administer any potions or spells until we can be sure they won't have an adverse effect."

Rose wondered if it was just their need to hear the details of Malfoy's capture that worried them so, or genuine concern for the unconscious man. Though he would never admit it, Rose knew that her dad had grudgingly come to respect the younger Malfoy in his time as an Auror.

Ron Weasley sputtered, shaking his head at his best friend, his face turning slightly purple. "Harry, if we don't do something, Malfoy could stay in this coma for the rest of his life!"

At this, Rose gasped, giving away her presence. The two older men looked up, both of their gazes softening when they realized who it was that the noise came from. Ron came over to his daughter, his face set with worry as he reached for her. Rose felt herself being pulled into a hug. She felt as though she may cry.

"Rosie," her dad said, his voice strong and slow, comforting her with just its tone. "You should go home and get some rest, I don't want you involved in any of this."

Rose broke away from the hug and looked up at her father, indignant.

"Dad," she started, trying her best to keep control of her temper. She hated when he treated her like she was still a little girl. She was twenty-two and a qualified Auror, damn it, not some silly 11-year old on her way to Hogwarts for the first time. "Scorpius was _my_ partner – _is_ my partner. I was there with him on the night of… If anybody has the right to be here, it's me."

Harry sighed behind them. "She's right, Ron," he said wearily. "Let it go."

Rose smiled at her uncle thankfully. He managed a halfhearted grin in return. Ron, however, looked defeated. He put his head in one large, freckled hand, rubbing at his forehead warily.

Rose felt bad, but had no time for her father's worry. She looked past the two men, through the door beyond. In the window, all she could see was the end of a hospital bed, and the humming magical instruments beside it. Rose didn't know what any of them in particular were used for, but it looked like there were an awful lot of things keeping the patient alive at the moment. She gulped.

"Can I see him?"

* * *

Rose jolted awake from a dream. At first, she couldn't figure out why she was asleep in a sitting position. For a second, she worried she'd fallen asleep at an office meeting, yet again (Jones would have her head for this! "Third time this month!" Rose could aleady hear her boss' scolding tone). Then she took in her surroundings.

The room was painted a soft shade of cornflower blue, which made a nice change from the stark white of the rest of the hospital wing. This was the ward's room for long term residents, which meant that somebody had obviously tried a little harder to dress the place up. There was a nice potted pear tree in one corner, and a gilded-framed portrait of Albus Dumbledore hung on the wall opposite the windows which looked out onto the setting sun on the rooftops of Muggle London. There were two other empty beds stationed across the room, their sheets tucked in so that not a wrinkle was in sight, but sporting large, cushy pillows. It was, Rose admitted, altogether quite homey.

That did not change the fact, however, that this was indeed a hospital. Rose only had to look down at the patient in the bed to remember this fact with stinging accuracy.

The man on the pristine white bed did not look like Scorpius Malfoy. His cheeks were hollowed out, making his already prominent high cheekbones look razor sharp. His hair, once sleek and shiny and his prized possession, was a matted, dull shade of blond that would have made the old Scorpius cringe. His skin was marred with several deep scrapes that the mediwitches kept coming in to apply salve and essence of dittany to every so often, and there were nasty-looking bruises all along his arms for as far as Rose could see. She presumed that if his hospital gown were to be removed, she would find these marks all over his body.

Even in the state he was in now, and though he was not awake, Rose blushed at the idea of removing his clothing and then chided herself for being so immature. Malfoy was severely injured, and she was distracted by the idea of removing his garments.

 _That's in the past,_ she reminded herself quickly.

Looking down at him though, she could see ghosts of the man he used to be. He gritted his teeth in his sleep, and Rose noticed that he had somehow retained all of them. She silently rejoiced. His smile – when he actually graced the world with it – had been her favorite part of him. Somehow charming and a bit mischievous, all at the same time.

Comforted by this thought, she drifted back off to sleep, absentmindedly resting her arm gently against the bedside where his hand lay.

* * *

Rose didn't know exactly how long she remained by his side. When she woke up again, somebody had placed a tray of food for her on the bedside table. She picked at the egg and cress sandwich, not feeling particularly hungry. She talked to him about nothing in particular, hoping that the sound of her voice might wake him up. When that didn't work, she turned the old wizarding radio in the corner to a station that promised to play "A Celestina Warbeck song for each hour of the day" that she knew Scorpius would hate.

She chatted with her Uncle Harry, who was a frequent visitor in the ward. He told her that he was doing his best to keep the press at bay, and that Scorpius' parents, who had been on a vacation together to visit distant family in America, were in the process of being found and informed of their son's return. Harry encouraged Rose several times to go home and rest. She would not.

Rose awoke suddenly. The moonlight streaming into the window told her that it was well past the time she should still be in the hospital. She wondered if it had been her uncle who had persuaded the Healers to let her stay past visiting hours, and silently vowed to thank him later.

It took her a second to realize what had jostled her from her slumber, but as she looked down at the bed, the reason became obvious.

Scorpius was stirring.

Rose leaned forward in her chair, and took his hand tentatively. It was heartbreakingly thin and calloused, but it was warm.

She watched with bated breath as his eyes slowly fluttered open.

Deep blue met stormy grey.

"Malfoy…?" she whispered to him, hardly daring to believe it was him. It was him, and he was alive and awake. Her mind was working a million miles an hour, wondering how this could be true.

Rose was surprised to hear her own voice after sitting the whole day in relative silence. Embarrassingly, her throat had begun to form a thick lump in it, and she decided she could say no more without her voice breaking. She started to feel hot and flushed, and wished she could say more. Why was she here, anyway? He must have thought she was a right lunatic for being at his bedside in what was obviously the middle of the night. Rose knew she was definitely blushing now – curse her Weasley genes – and looked down at her hands, fumbling about for what to say next, if she even could squeak the words out.

"Hi," he said, his voice gravelly and low.

Rose looked up at him, eyes shining dangerously. A tear slipped out of one eye, and she swiped at it, furiously. Scorpius followed her motions with his eyes, but did not comment.

"I thought you were dead…" Rose whispered, her voice sounding like sandpaper with its effort to get the words out. It went up at the end, ending on a choking sob, and she covered her mouth with one freckled hand so that she would not completely lose control.

He looked on with sad, tired eyes, and said nothing.

She continued, unable to help herself. "That night… I watched you die… and I couldn't…" She tried again, "For three years, I thought…"

Rose broke off, openly crying now. Scorpius continued to stay silent, but opened one arm to her. She folded into him, half-laying on the bed in his arm, breathing in his scent. Somehow, he smelled like himself, all citrus and a smoky, woodsy smell that reminded her of flying. That, more than anything, comforted Rose immensely.

When she had pulled herself together, she lifted her torso off the bed and sat, perched on the edge of her chair. At this new distance, she could see how exhausted he looked and inwardly chided herself for putting her needs and emotions first when he had clearly been through the ringer.

"I should go," she said, making as though to leave. Before she had fully evacuated the chair, his hand reached for her arm, gently pulling her back. She looked down into his face. He was as open and unabashed as she had ever seen him.

"Please stay." Was all he said. It was all he had to say.

Rose settled back down in her chair, curling her legs up to her chest. His hand had slipped down from her arm to rest in her own hand, and he stroked her palm lightly with his thumb.

They said no more, just sat in comfortable silence. Scorpius fell asleep a few minutes later, and Rose watched him drift off. His breathing evened, and Rose let out a small sigh of relief. She traced his hairline with one finger, lightly, and looked at his sleeping face, one she never believed she would see again.

 _He's alive,_ she reminded herself, almost scared to believe it to be true.

Rose drifted off within the hour.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: JKR is creator and master of all.**

* * *

 _Four Years Earlier._

 _December 2025_

* * *

The first three months of Auror training seemingly passed in an instant for Rose. It was by far the hardest work she had ever done, but also the most rewarding.

Every day, she woke with sore muscles, still exhausted despite the little sleep she managed to get, but ready to face the day and all its challenges. Rose had never felt so exhilarated in her life, or so much like she was exactly where she belonged.

The practical examinations they had to take were grueling and strenuous, sure, but nothing felt better than actually getting out and doing field work. Rose had gone on a house call in Scotland just last week with a few other chosen trainees and gotten to rescue a young boy from a kidnapping. It was a mentally, physically, and emotionally draining challenge, but the thanks his parents had given when Rose personally delivered the kid back into his mother's arms was validation enough that this was the right career path for her.

However, not everything about Auror training was peaches and cream.

Scorpius Malfoy was insufferable. At school, he'd been arrogant and entitled, sure, but Rose had gone out of her way to avoid spending much time with him. At least then, there had been an entire castle separating them.

Now, they spent every waking moment together. Malfoy was the first person she saw in the morning, when they were suiting up and getting ready to train for the day, and his stupid smirk was the last thing she saw at night before they went home, exhausted and drenched in sweat. They had the same exact schedule. They took their breaks together, and they ate all of their meals together. She was sure, last week, he had even been in one of her dreams. His invasive, nagging voice was ever-present in her mind.

It wasn't _just_ that he was annoying – though he certainly was. He was incredibly arrogant, and had a way of making her feel inferior. The other day, Rose had been doing some particularly tricky charmwork that would disable a dark curse placed on a certain artifact. She had been just nearly about to break the intricate spell code, when a smug voice said over her shoulder "I wouldn't do it that way if I were you, Weasel." The moment she had taken to look up to glare at Malfoy had been just long enough to allow the object to strengthen its protective charms, repelling her next attempt to break the curse. Rose had suffered several bad magical burns from that one. Every time they stung, she cursed Malfoy's name.

Not only this, but he was so bloody cocky, as well. During their breaks, several of the girls in the Department of Magical Law offices would sidle up to him, with simpering smiles and batted eyelashes. Scorpius would immediately put on his aristocratic gentleman act (she noticed he'd never bothered to use it on her! Tosser!) and ooze charm to the point where Rose had to repress the need to gag.

She maintained that his style of flirting made him look like one of those silly albino peacocks that his family so infamously bred. When she'd scathingly mentioned this to Scorpius, he had scowled for the rest of the day.

At least it'd stopped him from speaking to those girls, Rose noticed.

By the time December rolled around, the Auror trainees were beginning to settle into a routine. They knew each other well now – helped only by the fact that four of their bunch had already left, deciding that this lifestyle was too stressful for them. Rose found that while some members of the squad she could really take or leave (cough-Malfoy-cough), she really did quite enjoy the company of most of her co-workers.

One particular Friday evening in December found Rose and the rest getting out of training earlier than usual – a treat which Jones and Pitts saved for the particularly grueling weeks. Earlier in the day, they had arrived on the scene of a suspected dark wizard hideout, and had found the dark cave deserted. Only the mangled corpse of a young dragon had been left behind, its expensive skin magically stripped off to be sold. Rose, upon arriving at the site, had immediately retched into a nearby bush at the very smell of the rotting carcass. She couldn't imagine who in their right mind would want to kill such a beautiful young creature.

Needless to say, the rest of the afternoon had been spent in miserable solitude before Pitts barked at the trainees to get their sad arses out of his sight until Monday.

As she stripped off her protective gear, back at headquarters, her co-workers talked among themselves. Sarah, who sat next to Rose and began taking her boots off, asked if she had any plans for the weekend, as they had the following two days off – another rare treat.

Rose was just about to answer that she had no real plans when Ewan Campbell spoke to the group, "Oi! You lot! Malfoy's birthday starts at midnight tonight, anyone else fancy the Leaky for a few pints?"

Everybody in the room murmured varying degrees of agreement. Rose looked at Sarah. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged with a smile.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was always packed on a Friday night. Rose had been here drinking once before with Albus, shortly after they had moved into their new flat after Hogwarts graduation, and had ended up spending the next morning downing whichever hangover-curing potions Al sent her way. She had not been back since.

Rose was glad that she had found a decent pair of dark-wash jeans in the depths of her Auror bag, as well as a simple but flattering sheer black shirt with quarter length sleeves, paired with her usual black tank underneath. Her hair remained swept up into its bun from training practice earlier that day. It was by no means fancy, but it would do the trick.

As she and Sarah entered the pub, a few minutes after the rest of the group had apparated over so that Sarah could do something with her hair, she was hit by the sheer volume of noise in the place. It took them a few seconds to locate their friends, but quickly found them on the end of the bar, surrounded by what looked like two entire bottles worth of Ogden's firewhisky.

"All right there, Weasley?" Campbell asked as they approached, handing Rose a very full tankard and winking roguishly. "Didn't know if you were going to make it! Never expected you to be one to go out drinking."

Ewan had been on her case all week. He wasn't quite as annoying as Malfoy – nobody was – but he was irritatingly flirty. Usually, this would annoy Rose, but tonight she was feeling a bit reckless. Tonight, his jeers just spurred her on.

Rose was not a seasoned drinker, but the idea that somebody would assume that she wasn't irritated her. She didn't give a verbal answer, but made eye contact with Campbell as she raised the glass to her lips and took a hearty swig. As she lowered it, she winked at him, and he laughed.

"Point taken, Weasley. And challenge accepted. Come sit by me," he grabbed a bar stool for her to sit upon. "We're going to get you absolutely pissed tonight."

* * *

Four drinks in, Rose was feeling uncomftably warm. She was painfully aware that Ewan's arm was draped around her shoulders, and that his hot breath was far too close to her face. She now felt that perhaps she had been a bit too eager to take him up on his drinking challenge earlier in the night. Rose could recall the shots they had taken with increasingly blurred accuracy.

The group of eight trainees had found a more secluded booth, where they sat drinking and laughing together. Though they had spent the last three months together, Rose had learned more about her new friends in this one night than she had in the entirety of training. For example, she never would have guessed the fact that Anders, a large Swedish wizard who had come to England for the job opportunity, could fluently speak nine languages – ten if he was drunk. Jason Boot, who had been a few years above Rose at school revealed that he had played semiprofessional Quidditch for three years before deciding to become an Auror. Furthermore, she had never known that Priya Singh had an irrational fear of toenails, or that Malfoy could do a scarily accurate impression of Professor McGonagall that had them all in stitches.

It took nearly half an hour for the lot of them to all calm down from the image of Malfoy imitating their former Headmistress' pursed lips and legendary evil eye. Rose, truthfully needing a bit of space from Ewan's groping, set off in search of the bathroom, and was relieved to find that it was empty. She quickly used the toilet, then stood in front of the mirrors to wash her hands, and caught a glimpse of herself in the glass. She did a double take.

The woman before her was not the same girl who had graduated Hogwarts just a few months ago. This woman looked like somebody who was self-assured and confident, her cheeks attractively dotted with freckles and glowing rosily where the drink had obviously affected her, her red ringlets coming loose from the bun in which they had been so neatly tucked into hours before. She offered a shy smile at the girl in the mirror, and saw the way her blue eyes sparkled brightly.

It wasn't that she had never seen herself as pretty before, because she knew she was passingly attractive. But Rose had grown up around hordes of beautiful women; her striking part-Veela cousins, exotic Roxanne with her green eyes and cocoa skin, and Lily, who was arguably cuteness personified. Rose had always just felt like another one of the Weasley girls, decent enough to hold her own, but not remarkable in any way that made her particularly stand out.

Now, though, the girl in the mirror practically radiated loveliness. It was as if since graduating from Hogwarts, without her large family to overshadow her, she had really found her true happiness. This woman looked like somebody who knew who she was, and knew she belonged.

Rose returned to the bar, feeling uncommonly beautiful.

On the way back to her seat, she bumped into somebody, sloshing their drink all down her front.

"Oh Merlin, so sorry!" the man's voice said. Rose looked up and met the dark grey eyes of Scorpius Malfoy.

"It's all right," she said quickly, trying to brush the incident off so she could return to the group. He grabbed her arm before she could go.

"Weasley, look at you, you're soaking wet… let me just do a drying spell quickly to sort you out." His warm hand was still resting on her arm.

"No, really it's all right…"

"Rose," he said, and she frowned slightly with the way her name sounded on his tongue, almost foreign to her own ears. "Come on, don't be daft."

"Yeah all right, go on then," Rose replied, finding it very difficult for some reason to make eye contact.

Scorpius took his wand out, and with a quick mutter of, " _aridus_ ", Rose was dry again.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly, managing a weak smile.

The two stood there a moment longer, unsure of what to say, yet strangely unwilling to go back and rejoin the others just yet. She told herself that it was to avoid Ewan's ghastly pick-up lines for just a second longer, but somehow she knew that was a lie.

Malfoy finally let go of her arm and shoved his hands in his pockets, presumably just to have something to do with them. He sighed softly, and Rose chanced a glance up at him while he looked the other direction.

His hair was too blond, she had always thought that, and perhaps a tad too long as well. His nose was slightly crooked where he had been hit in the face by a bludger during a particularly rough Quidditch match their fifth year, and Rose thought that his high cheekbones made him look extremely vain. His teeth were straight and even, though, and his lips looked perpetually swollen, like he had spent the last few hours having a very heated snog.

Rose blushed deeply when she realized he'd caught her staring, and fixed her eyes pointedly at a spot just below his left ear.

Eventually, Rose found the courage to meet Malfoy's eyes, and was shocked to find something other than distaste and arrogance within them. He smiled at her, tentatively. She smiled shyly back.

How very odd.

"Can I get you two anything?" asked the bored girl at the bar, eyeing up the two of them suspiciously. She raised one eyebrow at Rose, then settled in on Scorpius, her face twisting in a decidedly more pleasant smile. She pressed herself forward onto the bar, her ample cleavage nearly spilling out of her top.

Rose rolled her eyes, silently thinking that the pub had gone downhill since her Aunt Hannah and Uncle Neville had sold it.

She was just about to tell the witch that, _no_ thank you; they _didn't_ need anything, when Scorpius put some money down onto the bar.

"Two of Odgen's honey firewhiskys," he said, glancing quickly at Rose, "make them the tankards."

Rose blushed again, and dug into her pockets for some money to pay him back with, but he refused to accept any of her coins. "But it's your birthday!" She insisted, mostly just indignant that he would pay for anything she drank.

"Then next round's on you, isn't it?" he winked at her. Rose couldn't help it, she smiled in spite of herself.

They joined the rest of the group, a warm feeling growing in the pit of Rose's stomach. Must've been because of all of that blasted firewhisky.

When midnight came, Ewan and Anders helped Scorpius up onto their table, as they serenaded him with the slowest and most off-key version of Happy Birthday that Rose had ever heard. She laughed until her stomach ached, nearly losing it when the boys placed a felt-tipped floral witch's hat atop Malfoy's blond head. Smiling through her tears of mirth, she looked up and caught Scorpius' gaze for a second. He grinned back at her, nearly stumbling off the table.

It took another few hours and a couple more rounds of drinks for the evening to slowly wind down. Sarah disappeared just after midnight, saying that she had to get home to feed her cat, and Carson Dodderidge, the eighth member of their training group, a redheaded boy who looked like he could have been one of Rose's many cousins, had disappeared with Priya over an hour ago. The remaining five laughingly remarked that they did not expect the pair to return anytime soon.

As the hours crept closer to dawn, the remaining members of their group slowly broke off and apparated to their respective homes. Finally, it was just Rose and Scorpius who remained. The two of them wandered out of the emptying pub, stepping into the crisp, freshly fallen snow outdoors. When they reached the point where it was safe to apparate, both of them paused. Rose didn't know quite why, but she didn't want the night to end. It had been lovely getting to know these people beyond just as coworkers, and she knew that it would be all back to business come Monday morning.

She looked up to see Scorpius' grey eyes trained on her. He slowly tucked a stray curl behind her ear, then immediately retracted his hand, as though perhaps she wouldn't notice. Rose stifled a giggle.

"Well…" he started, unsure of what to say for perhaps the first time in his life, Rose thought.

She smiled. "Happy Birthday, Scorpius," she said.

She didn't know what made her do it – maybe it the alcohol, or the fact that it was his birthday, or merely a whim – but she stood on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before twisting on her heel and vanishing into the night.

* * *

 **A/N: I almost never truly love my work, but I am sort of proud of this chapter :) Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: A huge, heartfelt THANK YOU for those who have followed, favorited, reviewed or even just read LaF thus far. I have more views on this story than I ever thought I would, and it's totally overwhelming. You guys are makin' my day. Chapter 6 (maybe even 7!) should be up later this week.**

 **Disclaimer: Without Jo Rowling, this story would be meaningless drivel. She owns all.**

* * *

 _Present Day._

 _May 2029_

* * *

For the next week, Rose spent nearly all of her free time at St. Mungo's. She would find various excuses, like the fact that she just happened to be nearby in Muggle London, or that she wanted to speak to the portrait of Tonks about a particularly tricky case she was investigating.

It was a good thing she had learned Occlumency as a part of her Auror training, because coming up with believable lies was not one of Rose's fortes.

She didn't know quite why she felt so compelled to be there with him. Perhaps it was because he had been her training partner, or because she had felt such survivor's guilt for the three years she had believed him to be dead. Or maybe she came for herself; to convince herself that he truly was alive.

Whatever the reason, the need was there, and she was thankful to her friends and family for not asking her about it outright. She would not have been able to give them a satisfying answer.

One particularly bright and sunny Thursday, Rose took the liberty of letting herself off early from work. She had spent the afternoon drowning under incredibly tedious paperwork, and fancied a bit of an afternoon off. After stopping for a midday snack at Florean Fortescue's, which had been fully restored after the war by a cousin of the original Fortescue's, she found herself absentmindedly walking towards the visitor's entrance of the hospital.

The fact that she had picked up a second ice cream, chocolate chip and peanut butter, and that Rose knew this particular flavor happened to be Malfoy's favorite, was pure coincidence.

Nodding at Aurors York and Akram, who were now guarding the Diggory Wing so that reporters could not slip inside, Rose marched through the doors and down the hall to the room she had become quite familiar with these past few days, pausing only when she heard voices inside.

"Mum, I swear I'm fine." She heard Scorpius say, as the sounds of a sniffling female came from inside. Rose peeked through the crack in the door to see him, comforting a woman with greying dark hair. "Why don't you go home and get some rest? You've been up for hours and you look like hell." Rose was pleased to hear the slight lilt of laughter in his voice at the end of his sentence. He was regaining his sense of humor, slowly but surely.

His mother laughed too through her crying, which resulted in a choking sort of sound. She gave her son a watery smile, lightly hitting him on the arm. "Scorpius, love, I can't bear the idea of leaving you all alone." Her voice sounded threateningly close to tears again.

"Mum," he said softly, stroking his mother's head comfortingly, in a gesture Rose had never seen before from him. It was warm and caring, and slightly out of character. She leaned forward to get a better view. "I won't be alone, I've got – Rose!?"

The two Malfoys looked up, startled, as Rose fell through the doorway. She picked herself off of the floor, mortified, and brushed herself off with the hand that was not carrying the now melting, but miraculously not yet spilled ice cream. Rose was sure her face was as red as her hair.

"I – erm – brought you some Fortescue's." She offered, weakly.

Scorpius' eyes danced with mirth, his trademark smirk resting on his face for the first time Rose had seen since his return. "Mum, I'd like to introduce you to Rose Weasley. Rose, meet Astoria Malfoy." Rose was irritated to hear that he was on the verge of laughter. "Mother, Rose is my… erm, Auror training partner."

Rose flushed again, for some unbeknownst reason. She shook Mrs. Malfoy's hand. The older woman looked at her curiously, but not in an unfriendly way.

"I know your mother," she finally said, smiling warmly at Rose. "Lovely woman."

Rose offered a genuine smile back.

"Mum, you really should go home and rest," Scorpius said from the bed, a worried look creasing his brow. Mrs. Malfoy sighed heavily.

"All right, you win." She said, stroking her son's hair. "But mark my words, I shall be back in the morning, young man. And I will try my best to get your father to come along. You know this is difficult for him…" she trailed off suddenly. Rose suspected her presence in the room had something to do with it.

"I know." Scorpius replied simply.

Mrs. Malfoy kissed her son's head, giving his hair a friendly tousle. She stood to leave the room, drawing her long robes around her as she did.

"It was lovely to meet you, Rose," she said, offering another warm smile.

"And you, Mrs. Malfoy," Rose replied, liking the woman already.

"Call me Astoria, dear." She shook Rose's hand, and with another smile at her son, she left the room. Rose wasn't certain, but she thought she'd seen the older woman wink.

"Sorry about that," Scorpius said, sitting up straighter in his bed. Rose was pleasantly surprised to see how well he looked today. One of the mediwitches had presumably given him a haircut, so his usual silvery-gold locks were back, if not slightly shorter than they'd been three years ago. His face seemed less gaunt, and there was a healthier glow to his skin that hadn't been there when they'd first found him.

Rose realized she had been staring at him for quite some time, and had yet to say a word.

She blushed.

"So is that for me?" Scorpius asked, eyeing the ice cream. It had melted down Rose's hand in the midday heat, and she scolded herself for forgetting to cast a freezing spell upon it to keep it cool en route to the hospital.

"Oh! Yes!" she handed over the sticky cone to Scorpius, "Chocolate chip peanut butter."

His eyes danced as he smiled at her. "You remembered my favorite," he said.

"Yes, well..." Rose blushed again. She was turning into a human tomato around this man.

"Thank you."

They sat in silence for a moment while Scorpius ate his ice cream. Rose played with one red curl that had escaped the long plait down her back.

A quite buxom, pretty young healer came into the room, carrying several charts with her. She looked a bit annoyed to see Rose in the room, but not at all surprised. The staff had gotten used to her frequent visits.

"Mr. Malfoy," the woman said, smiling warmly at Scorpius in a way that made Rose's insides churn, it was so sickly sweet, "It's nearly time for your physiotherapy."

"Physiotherapy?" Rose interjected, unable to help herself. "Isn't that a muggle medicine practice?"

The healer trained her eyes upon Rose, gritting her teeth into a forced smile. "Yes, dear," she said, and Rose fought not to roll her eyes, "but when somebody such as Mr. Malfoy here-" she shot an award winning smile at Scorpius – "has suffered a high degree of injuries, we are able only to reset and mend the bones through magical spells. The full physical recovery is a much slower process."

Rose sat back into her chair, grudgingly satisfied with the answer.

"Mr. Malfoy? Would you like your girlfriend to accompany you to your physio session?" The healer asked, batting her eyes in a way that Rose thought looked ridiculous.

"Oh, she's not my-"

"I'm not his-"

Rose had a sudden urge to slap the satisfied smirk off the other woman's face.

"I would love to come to your physio appointment." Rose said to Scorpius, pointedly ignoring the other person in the room.

The Healer's smile faltered.

* * *

Two hours later, Rose had to admit that Scorpius was making much faster progress than she'd ever expected. He was clearly in a great amount of pain, but there was a determination in his eyes that told her not to count him out yet. Every time she suggested that he stop and rest, or that he'd had enough for the day, he would somehow summon the strength to carry on.

Finally, his Physio Healer, thankfully a jolly elderly man with no breasts or batting eyelashes to speak of, said that they should call it a day. If Scorpius exerted himself any further, he would risk injury and setting himself back several days' worth of progress.

It was dinner time when Rose and Scorpius returned to his hospital room, and two trays of spaghetti Bolognese were waiting for them, charmed to retain heat in their dishes. Rose ate hers ravenously. It wasn't as good as her Nana Weasley's, but it was quite tasty. She quickly prayed to Merlin that she wouldn't end up with spaghetti sauce on her face or a stray noodle on her crisp white shirt.

"God, what I wouldn't do for a firewhisky right about now," Scorpius said longingly, frowning at the glass of water that had been provided for him.

Rose laughed. "Maybe I could bust you out of here and into the Leaky for a drink or two." She suggested.

He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Nah," he finally said, sipping his water, "wouldn't want to see how it would react with all of the potions I'm taking." Rose shrugged, silently agreeing.

"Plus," Scorpius added, choosing his words carefully, "I don't know if I can handle seeing anybody right now, you know?"

Rose slowly put her fork down. They had not discussed the event of his capture or his return since she had seen him on the day he had come back. They'd stuck to safe topics, such as the weather or who was slated to win the current Quidditch season.

She wondered if now was the time for a serious discussion. Rose was aware that it took a lot of strength and courage on Scorpius' part to speak about the past three years, and so she hadn't pushed him. She figured that it would all come out when he was ready. Now that she was actually faced with the conversation, Rose was terrified to hear about the torture he had endured. Truthfully, she didn't know if _she_ was ready.

Scorpius sighed, putting his fork down as well. He stared into his Bolognese for a moment, then said so quietly that Rose held her breath to hear, "I thought I was never going to make it out of there alive."

Rose watched him with bated breath. She said nothing, but rather listened, allowing him to continue if he so pleased.

Scorpius looked down, his fingers absentmindedly running along the pink, puckered scars that covered his forearms. Rose's Uncle Harry had explained that when such dark magic was used on a person, it left scars that could not be entirely erased. Scorpius would have to live with the memories of his pain etched upon his skin for the rest of his life.

He slowly started to speak again, but with a quiet strength that Rose instantly admired.

"Every day they told me I deserved to die, deserved to pay for my family's desertion of the Dark Lord. They did… horrible things… things so that I wanted them to kill me, begged them to kill me."

Her heart broke for him.

"After a while, I didn't know who I was anymore. Every day blended into the last, each day was full of pain, and so I began to tune it all out. I have no idea how I survived on such little food and water, but somehow I did. Though I wasn't always sure I was alive at the time, to be honest…"

His laugh was hollow sounding. There was a hardness to his grey eyes that Rose had never seen before, almost like molten lava.

"Scorpius," she asked, breaking him from his reverie. He looked up, seeming almost shocked that she was still in the room.

"Scorpius," she began again, "how did you escape? How did you get out after three years of such… torture?"

His eyes met hers, locking in on her own and displaying an emotion that Rose could not identify. "It was you." He said simply.

"Sorry?" Rose asked with genuine shock, not entirely sure what he meant by that. If she'd been asked what the last answer she would ever have expected from him, surely that would have been it. No, that answer wouldn't have even been a possibility.

He laughed, sounding much more unaffected suddenly. "No, not like that… obviously it wasn't your doing, but it was thanks to you that I escaped."

When Rose continued to look befuddled, Scopius sighed, running one had through his hair. The movement was so familiar to Rose that she suddenly could have believed that it was three years earlier, and that none of this mess had ever happened.

Scorpius went on to explain himself.

"There was one day when my jailors… they were talking about something they'd read in the Daily Prophet. It was a wedding announcement – your wedding announcement…" his eyes became clouded again. Rose blushed, for some unknown reason feeling quite embarrassed.

"Anyway, it was like hearing that woke me up. I remembered that there was another world I had come from, a world I needed to get back to. And it gave me the strength and the determination I needed. The next day, when my jailor came to give me my one meal of the day, I was waiting for him. I strangled him and stole his wand."

He said this all very quickly, a bit too casually, staring at his hands again.

"And then I fought my way free. Paid for it, sure, but I was finally able to apparate back to Headquarters."

Rose was stunned. She sat in shocked silence, her dinner long forgotten. Scorpius glanced at her, suddenly weary.

"Look, Rose, nobody else knows this story but Potter and Weasl- your dad. So if you could just not mention… if my mum knew… just keep this between us, yeah?"

"Of course." She said swiftly, meaning it.

* * *

After his story, there wasn't much more the two of them had to say to each other. Rose left within the hour, promising to come back and visit Scorpius soon, and to bring him a snitch to play with ("to sharpen my Quidditch reflexes!") for while he was still bedridden.

When Rose got back to her flat, she found that Al had already gone off to bed, leaving a mug of tea and a few chocolate biscuits on the kitchen table for her. Rose smiled warmly at the gesture. Her cousin had been incredibly understanding lately, never once grumbling about her absence or the odd hours she'd been keeping.

Rose quickly changed for bed, pulling on her dad's old oversized Chudley Cannons jumper that she wore only when she really needed its comforting fabric. She distractedly took her makeup off with a flick of her wand, and brushed her teeth before climbing under the covers of her giant four-poster bed, expecting to drift off to sleep instantly after the stressful day she'd had.

Hours later, she was still awake, one phrase tumbling over and over again in her mind.

 _It was you._

 _It was you._

 _It was you._

* * *

 **A/N: Reviews make the next chapter come sooner! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This one is a bit longer than the previous chapters have been, and they only seem to be getting longer from here on out as I write them. Hope that doesn't put anyone off, but I really wanted to make sure that this is a story in its own right, and not JUST about the relationship between Scorpius and Rose. Though I promise there's much more of that to come very soon ;)**

 **As always, thanks to my lovely reviewers! Even if I don't find the time to respond to each of your comments, please know that they make my day.**

 **Disclaimer: Wish it were mine, but sadly, it all belongs to the fabulous JK Rowling.**

* * *

 _January 30, 2026_

 _Four years ago._

* * *

"Oi! Malfoy! Weasley!"

Rose turned to see their instructor, Helen Jones, calling their names across the training room. Wondering what could be the issue, she glanced quickly at Malfoy, who shrugged, before trudging over to where Jones was.

Every time Rose saw Helen up close, she was shocked by how petite and feminine this woman was. Rose had determined through conversations with her instructor that she couldn't have been older than about thirty, but she had wisdom and a strength about her that would have suited a woman twice her age. It was quite the interesting juxtaposition, since going on looks alone, Rose would have guessed Jones to be about eighteen.

"I've got an assignment for the pair of you," Jones started, and Rose's ears pricked up. "Pitts and I picked one pair of trainees to go along with the Aurors to stake out this site." She looked up at the two of them. "Don't make us regret letting you go. Debriefing will happen in Auror Potter's office at 2 pm, sharp. Be on time."

And with that, she walked away from them, yelling at Anders about his poor dueling form.

Rose glanced at Malfoy, and was surprised to see him looking slightly green around the gills.

"Wonder why they need extra Aurors on this case?" Rose mused, wrinkling her brow.

"Beats me," Malfoy shrugged.

At four minutes to two, Rose was seated in her uncle's magically enlarged office with what looked to be at least half of the Ministry's Auror squad, and Scorpius Malfoy beside her. Looking around, Rose felt suddenly very intimidated. There were nearly two dozen seasoned Aurors milling about the room, chatting with one another or scribbling furiously on their notepads. One particularly scary looking bloke was seated in the corner, polishing his wand. Every so often, sparks would fly out of the tip that left scorch marks on the seat next to him.

Rose heard Malfoy take a steadying breath from beside her, and followed his glance to the back of the room, where the last people were finally arriving. Her Uncle Harry walked in with purpose, followed by none other than Ron Weasley.

Rose smiled and stood as the two of them came over to where she and Malfoy were. Not caring about professionalism for a moment, she allowed herself to pulled into a bear hug by her father and to have her curls ruffled by her uncle. Both men gave Rose cheeky grins.

"The Auror department is thrilled to have you on the case, Weasley." Her father said, shaking her hand formally when he'd released her from the embrace.

Rose hid a smile.

Her Uncle Harry winked at her, "Positively ecstatic to have you, Weasley." Rose laughed, despite her dad trying to look stern beside him, "Absolutely chuffed."

"All right, all right." Her dad shot a look at his best friend, then turned back to Rose. "We were so proud to hear you'd been selected out of the trainees for this mission, Rosie," he beamed down at her. She allowed herself to bask in the glow for a moment.

"And congratulations to you as well, Mr. Malfoy." Rose turned to see her uncle shaking hands with Scorpius, whom she had never known to look quite so serious in her life.

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," the blond boy firmly shook hands with both men in turn, while Rose watched on, "I will do my best to make the most of the chance and serve the Auror Department proudly."

Rose's jaw dropped.

Even Ron couldn't help looking impressed with Malfoy's manners and maturity. He nodded quickly to the boy and gave a quick smile, before turning back to his daughter. With a loving pat on Rose's head, he went to take his spot near the front of the room. Harry followed shortly, settling in behind his large mahogany desk.

Slowly, the rest of the room noticed that the meeting was about to begin, and everybody took a seat. Rose shifted uncomfortably with the sudden silence.

Her uncle Harry cleared his throat, and everybody looked to him. He spoke, his voice loud and clear, "I know many of you are aware of the unfortunate circumstances by which we called you in here today."

Rose was surprised to see that many of the Aurors sitting around her were nodding their heads or murmuring in assent.

Harry continued.

"It is becoming increasingly clear to the Ministry that there have been several attempts of kidnapping and torture by a group of radicals whom we now believe to be ex-Death Eaters."

Rose was abruptly aware of Malfoy sitting beside her. She glanced at him briefly out of the corner of her eye and saw that he had gone deathly white. His mouth was set in a hard line, and she noted with some alarm that he didn't seem to be breathing properly.

"As you know, over the years we have had several attempts of retribution by Voldemort's followers, with varying degrees of seriousness. However, recent events have made us take this threat a bit more seriously." Harry rubbed his brow, and Rose felt for her uncle. His job was undoubtedly a highly stressful one. "There was an attack in Derbyshire last night that we believe is linked to this group, and a family of muggles was found dead in their home. Their oldest son had just started his third year at Hogwarts, and was safe in Scotland at the time of the attack. These radicals seem to be targeting the families of muggleborn wizards who are currently at school. We believe that their idea is to scare the muggleborns out of Hogwarts entirely by threatening the lives of their loved ones. Supposedly, if they renounce their wizarding status, then their families will not be in danger, though I can assure you that this sentiment will not last long, and they will begin killing muggles for sport."

Rose felt immediately ill. She thought of her dear old Nana and Poppa Granger, and how helpless they would be against dark wizards with wands and a slew of Unforgivables up their sleeves. She heaved a great sigh, feeling unfathomable sorrow for the muggle born children at Hogwarts who would surely blame themselves for their families' deaths.

Rose realized with a start that Harry was speaking again. She quickly tuned in, hoping she hadn't missed too much.

"…found a possible hide out for the radicals in or around the Peak District. We will have Aurors stationed within a twenty mile radius of where we believe their headquarters is to search for suspicious activity. We will provide each set of partners with camping supplies and food for a week at a time. When your shift is over, you are to report back to the Ministry and allow a new pair of Aurors to take your place on location. We will stake out the area for however long is necessary to gather as much information about their whereabouts and numbers, so that we can have a swift and clean attack."

Harry held up his hands as if to quiet the protests he already knew would come.

"Why not just walk into the camp and fight?" Harry asked the group, raising his eyebrows. He gave a brief smile, "some of my advisors asked the same question."

Rose's dad shifted beside him, looking uncomfortable.

Harry continued, "The answer is simple. I will not go into a Death Eater trap blind. They are goading us, with these attacks, and they expect retaliation. We must become smarter, more informed of their own movements than even they are. When we have a better idea of their location, their numbers, and their cause, then we will attack and shut the operation down."

Nobody seemed to want to argue any further.

When there were no more comments, Ron stood up and began to pass out thick booklets of bound parchment. Rose received hers, and looked down at the packet with trepidation. Splashed across the front was the Ministry of Magic insignia, with the words, **AUROR OFFICE: CLASSIFIED** written below it. When she opened it, however, she was surprised to see that it was blank.

Rose looked around, glancing at the booklets of the others in the room. Nobody else seemed to be concerned that they were empty except for Scorpius, who was thumbing through his copy with a slight frown on his face.

"They're charmed," whispered the cheerful looking, round-faced witch who sat on the other side of Rose. "They don't reveal themselves to anybody who does not have the authorized password, so that if you get captured or killed, the details of the mission stay classified." She winked at Rose, who felt ill again at the casual mention of death.

She glanced at Scorpius to see if he'd heard as well. His wide grey eyes stared back at her.

"The password is 'wrackspurt'," Rose's father said, smiling for some odd reason, "you will find the details and the dates of your individual missions within your pamphlets. They are charmed to update with new information every half hour."

Rose noticed the other Aurors in the room murmuring " _wrackspurt"_ while pointing their wands at their blank sheets of paper, and hurried to do the same. Immediately, ink began to appear from the parchment, as if it were being written by an invisible hand.

 _Rose Weasley, Auror Trainee_

 _Partner: Scorpius Malfoy_

 _Location: Buxton, England_

 _Dates on Duty: February 10-16_

The parchment went on to detail the other Aurors that would be on duty during the same time that they were, and local safe houses which they could use to floo home if necessary. It also gave rough coordinates for the area in which they were supposed to be patrolling.

Rose looked up at Scorpius, her heart beating in her chest. Their first real Auror assignment, and it began in less than two weeks.

He looked back at her, all of the excitement and nerves and fear that she felt reflected in his deep grey eyes.

* * *

 _February 13, 2026_

* * *

"Malfoy, come here a sec, would you?" Rose spoke softly to her partner.

It had been four days in the hills of the Peak District. Four days with only Scorpius Malfoy to keep her company, and already Rose felt as if she may be going insane.

The man in question shifted his position from the couch in their magically modified tent, so that he was just barely facing his body towards Rose.

She rolled her eyes.

Thank Merlin this tent had been magically expanded, Rose didn't know if she would have lasted a week within only five square feet of such arrogance. Any hint of friendship she thought they may have found during his birthday and the subsequent month had vanished after living in such confined quarters with only the other to talk to. It wouldn't have been so bad if they had been given anything to do, but all the last four days had consisted of was stealthily patrolling the area and checking in with their pamphlets to make sure that nothing about the mission had changed. That left a lot of downtime for the two of them to sit in their tent and irk each other. Rose thought she would go mad if she had to spend another day listening to his whiny drawl or looking at his stupid blond head.

"No, come _over here_ , I think I may have found something." She gestured to the small map she was holding, that detailed the five square miles that they were to patrol. It looked remarkably like the one that Albus had gotten from his father during his time at Hogwarts, but instead of showing the inhabitants of the large castle, it was designed to show magical activity.

When Scorpius came to sit next to Rose, she pointed at a dull glow that was emanating from the corner of the map. It was faint, but it was there.

She looked up to meet his eyes, his face alight with anticipation for the first time in days and a half-smirk gracing his features.

"Let's go get 'em." He said.

* * *

In hindsight, Rose should not have worn this particular pair of underwear to go dark wizard hunting. She shifted her weight uncomfortably in the crouched position she now sat in, hoping that Malfoy would not notice. She wanted desperately to tug the silk panties out of her arse, where they were steadily rising, but he would surely never let her live it down. So she waited in disgruntled discomfort.

The two of them were on a grassy hillside, crouched down behind an old stone wall that stretched on for miles. Just on the other side of the wall was the area that Rose's map had told them magic was being used in. At this point in time, all Rose could see were sheep.

"Are you sure that map of yours works?" Scorpius said, peering through the chinks in the ancient stones. He flicked a clump of dirt absentmindedly and scowled.

Rose sighed deeply. They had been there for two hours now, after apparating excitedly to this spot, and they had yet to see any real signs of magic. She looked down at her map, wondering if perhaps he had a point. Not that she would ever agree with him outwardly. He didn't need his ego inflated any further than it already was.

"I know what I saw, Malfoy," she said, through gritted teeth. "We are just going to have to be patient." Rose knew she sounded patronizing, like she was talking to a child, but she just couldn't bring herself to care.

He exhaled through his nose, and she could see that he was struggling not to make some biting comment.

"Lovely," he finally said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Just how I wanted to spend my afternoon. In the middle of nowhere, squatting in sheep shit, with _you."_

Rose's eyes narrowed, and she felt the heat rising in her face. "What does _that_ mean, Malfoy?" she demanded.

He smirked at her, knowing he'd touched a nerve.

"Trust me," she shot back bitterly, "you would not have been my first choice of companion, either."

"Oh really?" he replied, his grey eyes narrowing, "I can't really imagine Campbell freezing his pretty arse out in the wilderness with you, to be perfectly honest. Though I'm sure you could find several ways to… well, warm him up?"

Rose was taken aback, wondering where he had gotten that sort of idea about herself and Ewan. She couldn't think of anybody she was less sexually interested in than the overly flirtatious Gryffindor.

Except, perhaps, Malfoy himself.

"You're disgusting" she hissed back at the blond.

"Yeah, well Weasley, you're not so-"

A loud explosion went off just twenty feet from where they were sitting.

Immediately, both Rose and Scorpius whipped out their wands, glancing around wildly. Scorpius took off running towards the sound of the explosion, jumping over the wall in one swift leap, and Rose had no choice but to follow. When they reached the site of the sound, however, they found nothing but a small dark object, which Scorpius levitated with his wand so that they could view it properly. It looked vaguely like a muggle bomb, Rose thought. Though that couldn't be right…

Scorpius turned to face her, his cheeks deathly pale suddenly. "Bloody hell," he said, "They know we're here, it's a trap."

No sooner than he'd finished his sentence, another explosion went off, exactly where they'd previously been crouched at the wall. Suddenly, the air was full of booming sounds, as the ground seemed to erupt underneath them. Rose felt a stinging pain in her shoulder as one went off just a few feet away from where they stood. She felt herself being knocked back onto the wet earth as his body dodged in front of hers, protecting her from the brunt of the impact.

"Run!" Rose yelled, needlessly, scrambling to her feet. He had already taken off up the hill, in what she assumed was the approximate direction of their campsite. It was nearly two miles away from where they were now – would the death eaters have known to place bombs there as well?

"Scorpius!" she yelled breathlessly, as the earth exploded around them. "Scorpius, we've got to apparate back and get the tent…"

He seemed to understand. With a nod, he twisted on the spot and disapparated, just before Rose did the same.

She arrived at the campsite just after him, and found that he had already begun snuffing out the remnants of that morning's campfire. With a flick of her wand, Rose quickly packed the tent into a small magically expandable bag, and hoisted it over her shoulder. She grabbed his hand, without thinking, and twisted on the spot.

They reappeared in an alleyway on the outskirts of the small town of Buxton, ten miles from where their campsite was. Rose let go of his hand, breathing heavily, and checked herself for injuries. There was a deep cut on her shoulder that was stinging painfully, and several scratches on her hands and face. Other than that, she seemed to be fine.

Scorpius, though, was another situation entirely. His shirt was tattered from where bits of shrapnel had pierced it, and Rose could see beyond that there were half a dozen large glistening cuts on his chest and torso. There was also a deep wound on his face that looked as if it stung quite badly. She raised her hand to his cheek suddenly, worried.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand again. "The safe house should be this way."

When they finally reached the small cottage set back from the road, Rose noticed that Scorpius was limping slightly. She knocked on the back garden door five times, as their mission pamphlet had instructed them to do, and waited.

A rather plump old woman opened the door, hesitantly. When she saw the state of the two young Auror trainees, her eyes widened, and she ushered them inside quickly.

Rose all but carried Scorpius inside, and with the help of the other woman, lay him down on the couch. Immediately, the lady was rummaging around in her cupboards, pulling out jars of salves and potions that smelled strongly of medicine. Rose recognized a jar that looked like the Essence of Dittany her mother had used on her scrapes when she was young, and with a nod of approval from the woman, began applying it to the wounds on Scorpius' hands.

"Here you are dear, just drink this," the lady said, tipping a vial into Malfoy's hands, while she examined some of his deeper cuts. "It should take some of the sting away."

He downed it in one, and immediately gagged at the taste.

"I'm Pomona Sprout, by the way." She said good-naturedly, ignoring his reaction to the potion as she examined the cut on Scorpius' face.

"I'm Rose Weasley," Rose said quickly, realizing that it was quite rude to be in somebody else's house without introducing herself. "And that's Scorpius Malfoy."

Pomona looked at Rose, smiling. "You look very much like your parents, you know," she said. "Both of you."

The grey-haired woman turned her attention back to Malfoy, and frowned. "I'm afraid I am going to have to remove your shirt in order to get a closer look at these wounds, Mr. Malfoy." She said.

Scorpius gritted his teeth in pain and gave a quick nod.

Rose helped Pomona strip back his tee shirt, wincing as he let out a strangled cry when the fabric accidentally came in contact with the gaping wounds. One of his cuts was looked rather like it was close to displaying his innards and Rose gagged involuntarily at the sight.

"Why don't you go put a pot of tea on, dear?" Pomona said, sensing the younger woman's discomfort.

Rose busied herself with the kettle, trying to calm her breathing by exhaling slowly through her nose. They had been extremely lucky, if they had been just a few feet to the right when that first explosion had gone off, or had made a wrong step in running away…

She felt quite nauseated again.

When Pomona had finished dressing Scorpius' wounds, she turned her attention to Rose's shoulder. Rose winced as the older woman touched the scrape, but almost immediately felt the effects of the dittany coursing through it. They wrapped her shoulder in a thick gauze, just to be safe.

After they had tea and a few biscuits (Rose savored the chocolate as if she'd gone five years without it, not five days), Pomona stepped out for a bit to go send an owl to Harry at the Ministry and to replenish her stock of potions ingredients.

Rose sat in the woman's front room, while Malfoy lay on the sofa, playing with the bandage wrapped around his waist. Though much of him was covered in gauze, Rose blushed to realize that the shirtless bits of him that she could see were quite smooth and chiseled-looking. She had always thought of him in their school days as being a scrawny, lanky pest, but obviously he had done some growing up while she wasn't looking. Perhaps in more ways than one.

Rose frowned as she remembered the way he had thrown his body in front of her as that third explosion had gone off. Didn't he know she was fully capable of protecting herself? Prat.

"Why did you do it?" She asked suddenly, annoyed.

"What?" he stared at her, dumbly.

"Why did you push me out of the way when the explosion went off?" she demanded again, huffing.

Rose knew she was being irrational, that she should thank him for his help, but she didn't know if she could take his satisfaction. As it was, she was having a difficult time admitting to herself that he may not be half as bad as she'd always assumed.

He smirked at her. "Call it a hero's instinct, Weasley."

She snorted, a hint of a smile making its way onto her face despite her anger. "Yes, well. Don't do it again, I can take care of myself." She folded her arms and turned her face so that he could not see her grin.

"I know you can, Rose." He said, the laughter gone from his voice. Rose turned to look at him, and saw him staring openly at her. His face was red with wind burn, and the healed scrape still looked pink and raw on his cheek. He looked quite worse for wear, but there was an openness, an honesty in his features that she hadn't seen before. He continued to look at her unabashedly for the next several minutes, until Rose had to be the one to break eye contact, blushing as she glanced away.

"Get some rest, Malfoy." She said as she rose from her seat, realizing she had nothing left to argue about.

"See you in the morning, Weasley." He yawned, stretching his long body across the sofa.

Rose left the room with a smile.

* * *

 **R &R :) -md**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: OKAY. Now here's the terrible moment where I have now caught up with myself - I have half of Chapter 8 written, and will hopefully post sometime later this week, but I have no more chapters pre-written. HOWEVER, I promise to update at least once a week, because I feel that I owe it to my incredibly supportive reviewers and those who have favorited and followed. Twice a week may be a stretch, as I still need time to revise and beta them once I've splatted the words out onto the page, but I will try my very best.**

 **A million thank-yous to those who have stuck with me up to this point. You make my day.**

 **Disclaimer: If the Harry Potter universe were mine, it would have been a lot fluffier, so thank MERLIN it's not. JKR owns all.**

* * *

 _Present Day._

 _May 19, 2029_

* * *

A sunny, bright Saturday in May, Rose arose early, hoping to get in a good fly to kick start her day off from work. She grabbed her old, worn broomstick from the hall closet in her flat, and made her way to the fireplace before she heard Al stumble out of his bedroom behind her.

"Morning," he said, swiping at his bright green eyes groggily. Suddenly they lit up when he spied her broom. "Going for a fly?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Hold on a sec," he said, grabbing his Thunderbolt XII from the closet as well. "I'll come with you." He stopped at a hall mirror, attempting to flatten his dark hair for a minute before giving up.

When he was ready, Rose grabbed a handful of the floo powder from the pot on their mantel, and threw it into the fire, yelling "Rosebud Cottage!"

Several long seconds of twisting and tickling green flames later, she fell out of the fireplace, looking around at her parents' front room. It looked exactly the same as it always had, with the multitude of cushions on the sofas arranged _just so_ , and several pictures of impossibly redheaded children dotting the walls and mantelpiece. Rose moved aside just as Albus stepped out of the fire behind her, very nearly knocking her over.

"Hello?" she called into the seemingly empty house, "Mum? Dad?"

A clanging noise came from the kitchen, and Rose started off in that direction, Al at her heels.

Rose's mother popped her head around the corner, her hair frizzy in the early summer heat, and a dusting of flour on one cheek.

"Rosie, Al!" she smiled warmly, "We weren't expecting you this morning!"

The two of them entered the kitchen, and Rose was shocked to see that there were mixing bowls and baking ingredients littering the usually spotless counters. Her mum was stirring some concoction in a large pot on the stove with alarming speed and simultaneously flipping through a recipe book with her left hand, muttering to herself.

"Aunt Hermione," Al asked, openly staring at the frizzy-haired woman, "what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Hermione looked up at the two of them, her cheeks flushed. She explained, "We are having our monthly book club meeting tonight, and Fleur always brings these amazing homemade pies," Rose noticed that her mum's voice had taken on a slightly acid tone. "Tonight we're hosting the meeting at our house, and I just thought…" She looked to be on the brink of something, be it insanity, or tears.

Rose stifled a laugh, as to not hurt her mother's feelings. Nothing in this kitchen looked even vaguely edible.

There was a beat as the three of them looked around the room, which looked far more like a war zone than a kitchen. Hermione let out a very small giggle, which led Rose to laugh as well. Suddenly, all three of them were howling with laughter, clutching at their sides. A cake cooling on the counter began to sink in the center at the loud noise, which just made them laugh even harder.

"Blimey, what's happened in here?" a deep voice came from the doorway. Rose turned to see her father, looking absolutely gobsmacked as he stared at the culinary carnage.

They helplessly gestured towards the sunken desserts, tears streaming down Rose's face as she laughed.

When they'd calmed down, Hermione covered her head with her hands and groaned. "Merlin, I give up." She said finally, "I'm just going to get my cakes down at the bakery and pretend I've made them myself." She gave a good-natured laugh.

"Your secret is safe with us," Rose promised.

Hermione waved her wand at the mess, and immediately the kitchen began straightening itself out. Dishes leapt into the sink and began to scrub themselves, while a dust pan and broom sprang to life and started sweeping the odd clumps of flour and dough into the bin. Rose stopped for a moment to admire her mum's handiwork. The woman couldn't cook, but she was sure good with a wand.

Ron edged into the kitchen, sensing that it was finally safe to do so. He grabbed a clean pan from the cupboard and began cracking eggs into it like a seasoned professional while Hermione rolled her eyes, watching him. Rose couldn't be sure, but she thought she'd heard her mum mutter " _show off_ " as she was untying her flowery apron.

"Breakfast, anybody?" he asked Rose and Albus with a grin. Rose grabbed a stool and sat, flying momentarily forgotten at the prospect of one of her dad's full English breakfasts.

When they'd finished off their unreasonably large portions of eggs, Rose and Al grabbed their broomsticks and headed into the back garden. Rose walked through the flowerbeds until she came to a small wooden gate, through which she could see a meticulously maintained field with three large hoops on either end. When Rose was thirteen and made the position of chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Rose and Al's dads had built them their own mini Quidditch pitch in the backyard. Though Rose had quit the team in her sixth year to focus on her studies, flying remained one of her very favorite pastimes.

She straddled her old Firebolt Platinum, and kicked off from the ground, hard. Immediately, Rose felt the familiar swooping sensation in her stomach, and grinned widely. Merlin's beard, she'd missed this.

She took a lap around the pitch, reveling in the feeling of the wind whipping through her curls. Al followed, at a slightly more cautious pace. Though he was the spitting image of his father, he didn't possess Harry's natural ease on a broomstick, nor his mother's flying prowess. Al had always considered himself a "recreational flyer," whereas both James and Lily had inherited the impressive Quidditch genes. Al's older brother was currently playing as a reserve beater for the Tutshill Tornadoes, while his younger sister Lily had secured a job working for the Nimbus Broom Racing Company in their development team upon her graduation from Hogwarts.

Rose and Al spent an hour or so tossing an old quaffle back and forth and practicing various diving techniques before they decided to call it a day. They headed back in the direction of the large stone house, Rose's muscles aching pleasantly from the exercise.

Al chatted idly about a new potion he was working on for work as Rose's mind wandered to what she planned on doing for the remainder of the day. She hadn't been to St. Mungo's in a couple days, and wondered if she should go pay Scorpius a visit.

As if he were reading her mind, Al suddenly asked "Are you planning on going to the hospital today?"

Rose colored slightly. She had gotten to the point where she could no longer make up excuses for herself as to why she felt the need to be with Scorpius during his recovery, but Rose knew that eventually, she would have to properly examine her feelings. For now, shrugging them off just seemed like a wiser idea.

"I was considering it," she answered Al honestly. Thankfully, he asked no further questions on the matter.

"How's Simon doing with the wedding prep?" he queried instead.

Rose paled at the mention of her fiancé. _Simon._ Somehow, in all of the excitement of the last few weeks, she had nearly forgotten about their impending nuptials. They had never been the type of couple to be attached at the hip, after all, they both had very demanding and stressful jobs, but Rose knew that she had at least one owl from him back at her flat that she had left unanswered. Perhaps she would try to pop in to surprise him later on tonight. She tried to squelch the feeling of guilt bubbling up in her stomach.

"He's, erm, doing all right." She finally answered, "Still loads to do, but thankfully his mum has taken care of most of it."

Al frowned.

"Rosie! Al!" Hermione's voice came from the house as soon as they'd locked the gate behind them and stepped into the back garden. "Come and look at the pies I've bought!"

Once Rose and Albus had admired the store-bought desserts and promised her mother that _No,_ they _didn't_ look as if she had gotten them from the bakery, and after Rose had promised to meet with her mum the next day for lunch, the cousins flooed home. Al immediately went in the direction of his bedroom, muttering about going back to sleep for a bit, while Rose headed to the shower.

When she had gotten dressed and done her hair – yes, she'd _always_ liked to curl it extra nicely on a Saturday, it's not that this was a special occasion or anything – she stepped into the fireplace yet again, this time heading for St. Mungo's Hospital.

* * *

Upon her arrival to the Diggory Ward, Rose was surprised to find Scorpius' bed empty. After a quick glance around the room, she saw that his books and the snitch she had gotten him still remained in their proper places on his bedside table, so he definitely hadn't been discharged yet. Rose turned around and headed out of the ward's doors, wondering where he could be.

"You lookin' for the Malfoy boy, love?" asked the Auror who was guarding the wing, a middle-aged wizard named Hunstley with a slight paunch and a thick Cockney accent.

"Yes, have you seen him?"

"Think 'e 'ad one of his physiotherapy sessions," Huntsley said, stroking his copper mustache. "Just 'eaded that way with a mediwizard not twenty minutes ago."

"Thanks" said Rose, heading off in the direction the wizard had pointed.

A few minutes after searching down the hall, she nearly ran smack into Scorpius and his healer.

"Rose!" he said, pleasantly surprised to see her.

"Hey," she said, grinning back at him, truly pleased to have found him. "You're walking so much better now!"

It was true. For the first time since his return, he looked like himself again. If you ignored the scars latticed across his arms, it was as if he had never been captured at all and the last three years had been a bad dream.

"Mr. Malfoy has been making incredible improvements," the kind old mediwizard said, smiling at his patient, "His recovery time has far exceeded my expectations. We are hoping to get him out of this hospital by sometime next week, at this rate."

Scorpius beamed down at Rose, proud of his own accomplishments. Rose laughed.

"I'll be sure to warn the rest of the Wizarding World, in that case!" she joked.

Both Scorpius and the healer laughed.

"We're nearly done with our session here, Mr. Malfoy," the older man said to Scorpius. "If you and Miss Weasley would like to continue walking about the hospital, I can recommend the tearoom café on the fifth floor. They do an absolutely lovely blueberry scone."

Rose's stomach grumbled at this, and they laughed again.

"Lead the way," she said to Scorpius.

Two blueberry scones, a whole pot of tea, and several biscuits later found Rose and Scorpius in the hospital's tearoom, heatedly discussing the Cannons' offensive strategy for the current Quidditch season.

Born and bred a Cannons supporter, Rose was arguing that this was to be their year, especially after recruiting Jennifer Wood as their seeker. Scorpius maintained that Wood was no better than she'd been in Hogwarts, where he'd caught the snitch right out from under her nose not once, but twice during Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff matches.

"Why don't _you_ just go join a professional Quidditch team, then?" Rose mocked, hurt that anybody would doubt the efforts of her favorite team.

"Maybe I will!" Scorpius said, childishly.

Rose laughed at how ridiculous he looked, his pale cheeks flushed with annoyance. He cracked a smile, then sipped his tea with feigned composure.

"No, I must get back to the Auror force right away," he said, with his stuffiest accent, but Rose saw his silver eyes twinkle over his teacup, "lest one Auror Weasley starts missing my presence too much."

"Yes, my father is just _inconsolable_ without your _delightful_ company, Malfoy." She countered easily.

He laughed, a surprisingly loud bark that rang through the tearoom. Rose felt as though her grin might split her face.

"Rose?" came a new voice from behind her. She turned swiftly, recognizing it.

"Simon!" she said, quickly standing to embrace her fiancé, who was clearly on his lunch break in his lime green Healer's robes. He stiffened slightly when she touched him, but hugged her back all the same.

She glanced back at Scorpius, whose laughter had disappeared from his face. His features formed a cool mask as he rose to shake Simon's hand.

"Scorpius Malfoy." He said smoothly.

"Simon Archibald," the handshake seemed to go on too long, both men's knuckles turning slightly white. "Rose's fiancé." He clarified.

"Congratulations." Scorpius said, flashing his straight, white smile.

"Thank you."

There was a beat of silence as both men sized the other one up.

"I'll leave you to finish your tea," Simon said finally, smiling without it reaching his eyes. He turned to face Rose. "Darling, if you have a second, could you meet me in my office?"

Rose glanced between the two men, feeling quite trapped for some reason. She smiled at Simon, then told Scorpius she would meet him back at his room in a bit.

Feeling rather like a reprimanded child heading for the Headmistress' office, she followed Simon out of the café and towards the lift that led to the other hospital floors. When they reached his wing on the third floor, they headed into his private office. It was decorated rather plainly and with a clear masculine touch. The impressive solid oak desk took up much of the room, with silver instruments upon it that Rose didn't know the function of. Papers were filed neatly into stacks in the open-faced cabinet behind it, and the taupe walls were completely bare. In fact, the only photograph in the room was a framed Muggle picture of his mum and sister sitting on his desk. Rose selfishly wondered why there weren't any pictures of herself around, and made a mental note to provide him with one.

Simon sat behind his desk, and Rose had no choice to sit in the patients' chair across from him. It immediately felt too hard on her bottom, and she shifted to try and get herself into a more comfortable position.

"Healer Lawrence told me you've been spending quite a bit of time in the long-term stay Aurors ward." Healer Lawrence must have been Scorpius' pretty young mediwitch. Rose suddenly had another reason to hate the overly flirtatious woman. Simon was eerily calm, his face like marbled statue. Rose swallowed.

"Simon, he was my training partner, and he's my mate. I can't leave him alone at a time like this." Rose hoped her fiancé would understand.

Simon sighed, running one hand through his golden hair in frustration.

"I know darling, I'm sorry," he finally said. "It's just that it's barely over a month to our wedding and I've hardly gotten to see you. I guess I was just jealous of Malfoy..." he let out a sudden bark of laughter. "Imagine that!" He laughed again. Rose frowned, not getting the joke.

Simon elaborated, "How silly of me, jealous of a man who nearly got tortured to death based only on his family name. Honestly, I pity the bloke. Nothing he ever does is going to surpass the fact that he is, and will always be, the spawn of death eaters."

Simon shook his head with a sad smile. Rose got the feeling he thought he was being quite sympathetic.

"Just be careful with him, Rose, all right?" Simon implored, staring into her eyes with his perfectly clear azure blue pair. "You can never be too cautious around a Malfoy."

Rose was shocked. She had known her fiance had quite a strong sense of right and wrong, but she had never supposed he'd be the type to judge a person on family name alone, rather than their own merits. It made her wonder briefly whether the impression she had made on him was based on herself, or the successes of her famous family.

"Yes, well," she said, bristling, "I told Mum I would meet her at half four, so I really should be going." The lie slipped easily off her tongue.

Simon smiled at his fiancé fondly, before saying a quick goodbye and turning back to his paperwork.

Rose stood to leave.

"Oh, and darling?" He called just as she was about to go. She turned around hopefully, ready for a goodbye of a bit more ceremony and feeling.

"Close the door on your way out, would you?" Simon smiled warmly from his desk.

Rose left, doing as he said. Later, she would blame an inexplicable gust of wind in the hospital for the slamming noise the door made as it closed behind her.

* * *

When Rose returned to the Auror ward, Scorpius was already back in his hospital bed, taking his daily doses of several nasty-looking potions. He looked up as she entered and sat in her usual chair, but said nothing. It wasn't until the healers had cleared out of the room and the two were left on their own that he spoke.

"He doesn't like me," Scorpius said, unapologetic, "Simon. He looks at me as if I were scum."

Rose sighed, deciding not to deny it outright. She was silent for a moment, wondering how she could explain the situation without hurting her friend's feelings.

"Simon is muggleborn," she began slowly, checking in to gauge his reaction, "he obviously wasn't alive during the War, and he doesn't have any family members for reference, so all he knows is what's written in the history books. Books that don't paint your family in a particularly good light."

Scorpius scowled, but said nothing.

Rose continued, "Simon is a good bloke, he just has a very black and white sense of right and wrong. He's determined that your family has done evil things in the past, and so therefore, you must be evil as well."

"But that's bollocks!" Scorpius exclaimed, his grey eyes flashing.

"I never said it was right."

"But you're marrying him."

"It doesn't mean I have to adopt all of his views." Rose retorted, indignant.

"But you're not going to go directly against them, are you?" he sneered up at her, looking immediately every bit the stereotypical Malfoy.

"What would you have me do?" Rose stood, feeling herself getting angry. "He was perfectly civil to you, so I don't exactly see the issue, here. It's not as if he's forbidden me to see you, or anything. Simon doesn't pick my friends for me."

For some reason, this angered him even further. His charcoal eyes flashed, and Rose winced slightly under his sharp gaze.

"Oh, is that what we are? Friends?" Scorpius spat at her, scathingly. He was suddenly out of his hospital bed, moving swiftly across the room to her. He was surprisingly agile for an injured man. His body trapped her against the wall, and Rose could feel the heat radiating off of him, even through several layers of clothing. His smell was intoxicating, a woodsy musk that seemed to envelop her as she breathed it in. Rose's heart thudded wildly against her chest, threatening to escape.

"You know we're not friends, Rose." He hissed at her, just inches from her face. His grey eyes bored down onto her, and Rose had a sudden irrational fear that they would melt right through her. For a moment, his gaze flicked down to her agape lips, and she drew a rattling breath.

The temperature in the room seemed to rise several degrees.

"I – I have to go." She said suddenly, grabbing her purse from where she'd left it on the chair. He stood silently, watching her.

Rose waited until she had actually left the hospital, standing outside the brick building of the Visitors' Entrance, before she slowed down and leaned up against the wall. She held one hand to her rapidly beating chest, and tried to catch her breath.

She was there for several minutes before her breathing slowed to normal and she could apparate home.

* * *

 **A/N: Until next time, folks! Please review, let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: You guys. I have written this chapter over and over and over again, and I just can't get it exactly the way I want it. I might come back and edit later, when the story is finished, but... ah, we will see. Right now, it's giving me a headache.**

 **A million thanks as always to my reviewers :)**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.**

 **Caution: Mild smut ahead.**

* * *

 _Four years earlier._

 _February 14, 2026._

* * *

Rose awoke to bright moonlight shining through unfamiliar thin lace curtains. She sat up, puzzled for a moment, looking around at her surroundings. The plush purple sofa she slept on sat in the corner of a living room that looked as if it may have belonged to her Nana Granger, but that wasn't quite right… there was a plant prominently displayed that was twisting and coiling around itself, clearly alive with magic. She scanned the room, her eyes coming to rest on a still sleeping blond man on the couch opposite her.

 _Oh, right._

The previous day's events rushed back to her with alarming clarity.

It had been a trap. The radical Death Eater group had known where they were patrolling, and had set up some form of magical bomb sensors around the area. But how?

Rose dug through her small, magically expanded bag that still contained their tent, some research books she had felt were prudent to have on the mission, and several days' stores of food. Finally, her hand found the bound bits of parchment she was looking for.

" _Wrackspurt"_ Rose whispered, pointing her wand at the pamphlet, careful not to wake her sleeping partner up.

She scanned the documents, noting that one of the other Aurors' camps had suffered a similar fate. Rose quickly scribbled in their own notes the details of the previous day, urging the Auror department to look into wizarding bombs, and shut the pamphlet with a heavy sigh.

They could not resume patrols from a new campsite, since the Death Eaters knew of their presence in the area, but Scorpius would not be healthy enough to apparate for at least a few days. She thought briefly about using the floo network or a Portkey to get back to London, but they were dangerous methods of transportation, as either could be monitored and intercepted by the rebel camps.

They were stuck.

To her right, Malfoy shifted and his thick quilt fell off his torso, exposing a broad chest with a dusting of light-colored hairs that trailed down farther than Rose could see. Rose had spent the last few days sharing a tent with this man, but had never seen him sleeping. He always seemed to rise earlier than she did, and go to bed later. In his sleep, he looked much more youthful and carefree. The moonbeams streaming through the windows hit the hard planes of his face, somehow softening it, and his full lips were parted in a small smile. She giggled to herself, thinking he must've been having quite a good dream.

Rose blushed to realize that she found his slumbering image quite beautiful.

In a way, she wished that Malfoy had not saved her from the explosion yesterday. The idea of it had been doing her head in ever since it had happened. Here was a man she had determined she despised, whom she knew to be nothing but arrogant and self-serving, and yet he had risked his own life for hers. His actions didn't fit with her previous assessments of his character, and it troubled Rose greatly.

Carefully, she moved to the couch where he lay, checking that his gauze bandages were still wrapped tightly. His skin seemed rather warm to the touch, and Rose wondered if perhaps she should get a cold towel to cool his forehead. She daringly lifted a finger to his cheek, marveling in how smooth his skin was.

Malfoy stirred again, a small contented moan escaping his lips, and Rose froze, afraid he might wake up to find her hovered over him. However, he let out a contented sigh, and seemed to fall further into his sleep. Just as she got up and took a step to leave the room, she heard him quietly moan again, this time accompanied with a single word.

" _Rose."_ He murmured, the word searing through her veins like wildfire.

She stopped where she was, her eyes wide. Surely she must have misheard him?

Rose turned slowly to find that he was still asleep, a wide smile playing across his face. In her utter surprise and haste to back away, she knocked over a lamp from the end table next to him, sending it to the floor with a clash.

Scorpius was awake in an instant, his wand out and staring wildly into the room, searching for the threat.

Rose straightened the lamp, her cheeks burning. "Sorry," she muttered to her feet rather than his face, "Didn't mean to… er, wake you… so sorry."

She glanced up to find that he had lowered his wand and was regarding her with the oddest expression. She felt a liquid jolt of heat course through her body as he looked at her, and found it suddenly difficult to breathe. She knew she should back away, or leave the room entirely, but she was rooted to the spot under his intense gaze.

"Rose," he said again, lucid this time, his grey eyes burning through her. His hand found her wrist, and she felt herself being pulled back to the couch, on top of him.

They lay like that for a moment, scarcely breathing. Rose balanced with her knees spread on the couch, haphazardly straddled across him, and her chest coming to rest on his. Their noses were mere inches apart as they lay there, just breathing in one another. She wondered if perhaps she was the one who was dreaming, now.

Using the bright light from the moon, she could have counted every one of his blond eyelashes, or determined the exact shades of grey flecked through his irises, she was so close. In their exhausted state, all barriers had been broken down, walls that had been erected for years demolished in the events of an afternoon. Rose stared down him, seeing him for who he was for perhaps the first time in her life. She wondered how it could be that she'd met him years ago, but had never really bothered to get to know him at all. She breathlessly mused that the feeling she'd always associated with him was not hatred at all, but perhaps a fascination or some other form of magnetic attraction that she'd never quite understood until this moment.

Slowly, with tantalizing deliberateness, he raised his lips to hers, melting them with a scorching kiss. It was hard, and yet gentle all at once, his lips melding to hers so naturally. Rose sensed one of his hands tangling through her hair, the other coming to rest at the side of her face. His fingertips grazed along her cheek, drawing feather-light circles at her temple, and her eyes finally closed as she let herself come undone.

Rose kissed him back with all of the passion and hunger and fear she hadn't known she possessed, one of her freckled hands resting on an uninjured part of his chest. She delighted in learning that this part of him was just as smooth as his face had been. His lips parted her own, and his tongue began to mimic the circles his fingers were painting on her cheekbone, driving her crazy with the sensation. Rose bit his lip in approval, and was rewarded by his throaty moan into her mouth.

"Rose," he choked out with some effort, breathing heavily.

She had never loved her name as much as she did in this moment.

Scorpius hungrily captured her mouth again, then sent a trail of blistering kisses down her neck, making his way to her collar bone. Rose inhaled sharply as he found the sweet spot on her neck, sucking down hard until she was gasping for breath. His hand had left her cheek and was making broad sweeps on her lower back, dangerously close to her arse. She instinctively ground her hips into his, and his head rolled back with obvious pleasure.

"Rose," he moaned again, his voice two tones deeper than usual. The sound of it drove tingling sensations straight to her core. "Rose, I can't – I won't be able to stop if we go on like this-" he gasped out through heavy breaths.

She blushed, feeling uncharacteristically wanton.

"So don't" she said, nipping the side of his neck.

It was all she'd needed to say.

With a growl, Scorpius flipped her over onto her back, unexpectedly nimble despite his serious injuries, and covered her body with his own, his chest heaving behind the bandages. Rose felt a delicious tingle of anticipation cover her body before his mouth came crashing down to hers again, leaving her breathless. His obvious lust pressed against her thigh, and she wrapped her long legs around his hips, locking them together.

Scorpius moaned inside her mouth, and Rose flushed with victory. Both of their shirts were discarded in an instant, before she could register what was happening. She gasped as his trail of kisses led him lower and lower on her stomach, and Rose succumbed to the pleasure of it all, slipping further and further into the warm, intoxicating emotion that was unmistakably and uniquely _Scorpius._

* * *

Rose woke with the sun, feeling uncomfortably hot with its warm rays streaming in through the window. She rolled over, taking care not to roll completely off the sofa, and met the grey eyes of Scorpius Malfoy.

He was close enough so that Rose could feel his warm breath on her face. He sent a cautious smile down at her, which she returned. His hair looked soft and perfectly mussed in the mid-winter sunshine, and his full lips were rosy from their wild kisses.

"Hi." He said.

Rose flushed at the memory of what they'd done in the hours before. "Hi." She said back, shyly.

"Oh good! You're awake." Pomona was already dressed, bustling around the house with her wand, watering each of the magical plants that adorned the shelves and various pots. She seemed either unsurprised or unconcerned to see the two Auror trainees sharing a couch, their limbs entangled.

Rose sat up at the sound of the older woman's voice, thankful that they had retained enough sense in their passion during the night to put their clothing back on after they had… _well_.

She blushed again.

 _Merlin, I had sex with Scorpius Malfoy,_ Rose thought to herself, shocked at her own audacity. _And I liked it!_

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scorpius rub his eyes sleepily, and glance at her. He was seemingly coming to the same conclusion she just had.

Thankfully, they were spared the pain of morning-after awkwardness due to the presence of Pomona, who was now talking to herself distractedly, as she put her cauldron on to boil up some more potions for Scorpius' injuries.

"Miss Rose, be a dear and hand me that bezoar?" she said, rolling up her sleeves and tucking her wand behind her ear for safekeeping.

For the rest of the morning, Pomona kept Rose busy in her personal greenhouse behind the cottage, pruning several species of dangerous plants, and collecting the required clippings for her various potions. Rose emerged hours later, sweaty and sore, with dirt smeared across her cheeks, cursing Scorpius for being injured and therefore unable to assist.

The three of them enjoyed a nice lunch of baked potatoes that Rose had collected from the back garden, which were the admittedly the freshest and loveliest potatoes Rose had ever eaten, and then Pomona retired to her room for a little nap.

Rose and Scorpius suddenly found themselves alone, after hours of distraction and avoidance.

They sat on the plush purple couch – the scene of the crime, as it were- and Rose had to actively fight to ignore the feelings of longing that were now bubbling up inside of her. She was close enough to smell his fresh, woodsy cologne, and the smell was doing strange, befuddling things to her brain.

She truthfully didn't know what to think regarding their activities from last night. Though he had admittedly been slightly more bearable lately, this was a man who she had vowed to despise for the rest of her life. She had never known him to be anything but rude and arrogant, and so seeing this new, entirely likable – even fanciable – side of him was unnerving. And yet, all day Rose hadn't been able to keep her mind off of the blond man. It was as if all of her feelings of hate and disgust had been wiped away in the last twenty-four hours and been replaced with… she didn't know what. Though if she were being honest with herself, since partnering with him in September, those feelings of hatred had been rapidly dissipating. It just wasn't until he kissed her that she realized it.

At least Scorpius looked a bit unnerved as well, Rose thought. He was casually sipping his mug of tea, poring over their mission pamphlets, just as she was, but she could see that the tips of his ears had gone pink, and he seemed to have been reading the same sentence for the last ten minutes.

Rose sighed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

His gaze followed the motion.

She turned to him, her clear blue eyes staring into his.

He licked his lips.

She watched as his tongue flicked against his mouth.

His mouth had been so soft and so warm, last night.

 _What the hell,_ Rose thought, and kissed him.

It was as if an explosion had been set off in her brain. Suddenly, his hands were all over her, caressing her back as he kissed her, fully and with an unrestrained passion. Rose gasped into his mouth at the feeling of it, the swooping sensation that started in her chest and settled into her stomach, making it feel alight with fireflies. _This is better than flying,_ she thought wildly, blindly. She flicked her tongue against his lower lip, and he drew a ragged breath, allowing her access.

Kissing Scorpius was unlike anything she had ever known. All of a sudden, Rose forgot why she had cared so much about hating him, or her changing feelings towards the man. The only thing she knew were the tingles his fingertips left on her skin, and the sweet sound of him whispering her name into her ear. Her body felt alight with the passion of it all, and Rose closed her mind off to the little voice niggling in the back of her head. There was no room for anything that wasn't _Scorpius._

Wrapping her fingers in his silky blond strands, they fell back onto the couch, as one.

* * *

 **A/N: So there it is, the moment we have all been waiting for! I hope it didn't disappoint. There will be more with our Rosie examining her feelings to come, but for now they're just far too lusty for that. You know how it is ;) Also, I hope some of you caught what day of the year this all occured on at the beginning! Just a little fun for me. I know this has been a short one, but there is LOADS more to come in the next few chapters. Let me know what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: It's a long one, y'all.**

 **Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not, and never will be, JKR. Aka the Harry Potter Universe does not belong to me. Sadly.**

* * *

 _May 25_ _th_ _, 2029_

Present Day.

* * *

Rose spent the rest of her week playing the dutiful fiancé. She had a particularly excruciating lunch date with Mrs. Archibald ( _sorry, Fiona)_ where they discussed only the safest of topics, such as the weather. She met with the caterers to oversee some last-minute seasonal changes in the menu, and she approved all of Fiona's very detailed blueprints for the reception meal seating charts.

Friday mid-morning found Rose in the middle of an incredibly warm, stuffy muggle bridal shop, nearly suffocating with all of the chintzy décor and various displays that said "MR & MRS" in shiny, sparkly letters, adorning pillows, throw rugs, champagne flutes, and anything else you could imagine. Rose and Fiona – well, mostly Fiona – had decided that Rose would have a muggle wedding dress rather than the traditional wizarding robes, as to not confuse their various muggle guests. This was her final dress fitting before the wedding, which she was shocked to learn was now only just a month away.

The shop assistant buttoned the white dress all up Rose's back, while she held her breath. The smooth material fitted itself to her curves, but after the week she'd had, it felt rather more like a straitjacket than a wedding dress. Rose wondered how much more time spent with her Mother-in-law would warrant a one-way ticket to the St. Mungo's ward for the criminally insane.

When the assistant had finished her task of buttoning and set off Rose's long, curly red mane with a short bridal veil, they both exited the tiny fitting room, stepping out to where they could see the dress in a three-fold mirror. Rose's small entourage gasped with delight when she did so.

"Oh, Rose!" her cousin Lily exclaimed, covering her mouth with her small, freckled hands as she did so. "You look absolutely stunning!"

Rose twisted towards the mirror so that she could get a glimpse of herself, and had to admit that the dress was beautiful, all fine, intricate lace phasing into a light gauze skirt that looked as if it were dripping with small, white flower petals.

It was perfect, Rose admitted to herself. It fit her like a glove, accentuating her long, lean body in a way that made her look as if she actually had soft, feminine curves. The soft shade of champagne rather than stark white set off her fiery red hair magnificently, and even the veil added a touch of elegance that Rose did not possess naturally. She had never seen herself look so stunning in her entire life. It was too bad she felt like absolute dungbombs.

Ever since their row at St. Mungo's the other day, Rose had been struggling to put Scorpius out of her mind. If she closed her eyes, even now she could feel the heat of his breath, or see that hard, blazing look he'd given her as he'd pressed her body between his own and the wall…

Rose had to remind herself of where she was, and that she was trying on a wedding dress to marry another man.

Simon loved her, and she loved him. She had spent the last two years of her life with him, for goodness sake; she wouldn't be marrying the man if she were not sure that this was what she wanted to do. And yet, she could not for the life of her forget those scorching grey eyes, or the feel of Scorpius' hands on her body. Blimey, it had been three years since he'd touched her in that way, and the memory of it still made her blush like a schoolgirl.

Simon didn't make her blush, and he would never do anything unexpected or untoward. Simon was sturdy, Simon was respectful, and Simon was safe.

Safe sounded pretty good to Rose, just about now.

She turned around to face her family and friends, with a smile that she was sure nobody would mistake to be forced. They beamed back up at her, her mother in tears, her various female cousins _oohing_ and _ahhing_.

"You look incredible, Rosie," her very pregnant cousin Victoire said from the corner, a magnificent smile lighting up her beautiful face. "Simon isn't going to know what hit him, poor bloke."

Rose smiled, feeling for the first time in days like she was doing the right thing.

* * *

Though they shared a flat, Rose and Albus scarcely had spare time between their hectic careers and various relationships to spend together, which was why their Friday afternoon lunch dates were so sacred. Rose took great pains to make sure that she did not miss a Friday if she was in the country (when she was on location for work, her absence just couldn't be helped), ever since the time she had accidentally skipped a date and Al hadn't spoken to her for two weeks. He was incredibly laid back about most things, but Albus Potter took his friendships and loyalty very, very seriously. It was no wonder he'd been a Hufflepuff.

This particular Friday found the pair of them on the patio at a new café that had just recently opened in Diagon Alley, run by one of their old schoolmates, Jane. After spending a sufficient amount of time catching up with the former Ravenclaw prefect, Rose and Al tucked into their respective lunches with gusto.

" _ughhhhnnnf"_ Rose groaned happily, taking a rather enthusiastic bite from her sandwich, as some of its fillings squeezed out the other end and splatted on her plate. Al laughed at his cousin, then paused thoughtfully, his fork capturing a soggy chip before guiding it towards his mouth.

"Do you think we'll still have time to have our lunch dates after you're married?" he asked, chewing the mushy chip slowly.

Rose looked at him with a slight frown. "Of course we will, Al," she said, placing a hand on his forearm reassuringly. "Friday afternoons are the best part of my week."

"Yeah… it'll be different though, won't it?" he replied with a sad smile.

"Nothing could change you and me." Rose said fiercely.

"Okay."

They ate in silence for a moment longer, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine on their faces and arms. Rose vaguely wondered if she would get a sunburn, out in the open air like this, and inwardly cursed her father for passing on to her his fair skin and freckles.

"I saw Malfoy the other day." Al stated, digging into his battered fish, not even glancing up at Rose.

"Oh?" she said, hoping her tone sounded sufficiently casual.

"Mmmmm," he hummed, his mouth full of fish and chips.

Rose felt that he was deliberately goading her, not giving her any more information in order to make her ask further questions about Scorpius. It was like he was hanging the bait in front of her face. Rose sighed, knowing that her cousin wouldn't willingly give away any more information.

"Okay, I'll bite," she said, setting down her half-eaten sandwich. "Why were you in St. Mungo's anyway, Al?"

He smiled happily, taking a long sip of his water before answering, "I wasn't in St. Mungo's, I was in Gringotts." When Rose frowned, confused, he continued. "Malfoy was released from the hospital on Wednesday, and he was getting money out of his vault to pay a deposit on a flat for himself."

Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise, but said nothing. Al was more than happy to continue.

"We got a butterbeer and caught up a bit – since I haven't seen him more than maybe twice since school and all – and we talked about possibly starting a recreational Gobstones league-" Al chattered on while Rose recalled that he and Scorpius had been the co-presidents of the Hogwarts Gobstones club in their school days. It was funny that while she, Rose, had known virtually nothing about the blond boy back at school, her best friend and cousin had been rather close with him. How curious.

"- and then I told him, James is having his big birthday party this weekend, and why doesn't he come along so he can see everybody again. I hope you don't mind, Rosie."

"Wh… what?!" Rose spluttered, choking on the pumpkin juice she had been attempting to swallow. "You invited him to the Burrow?"

"Yes…" Al said slowly, his head cocked to one side in confusion. "In fact, I was surprised he knew nothing about the event… I thought the two of you were friends?"

"I don't know _what_ we are, Al," Rose said, exasperated. She sighed, then lowered her voice and leaned into her cousin, "We had a huge row last Saturday," she confided. "I'm honestly not sure if he wants to ever see me again."

"I don't know about that, Rosie." he said, chasing his peas around the plate as Rose watched on, "He seemed pretty excited about coming once I assured him you'd be there."

Rose tried to rearrange her facial features in a way that made her seem passive about this last comment, but failed miserably. Al, being ever observant, noticed right away.

"What I don't understand is," he said cautiously, looking at his cousin with intense, intelligent bottle-green eyes, "is why you're still pretending he means nothing to you, and that you can still go through with this marriage to what's-his-face."

Rose sat back in her chair, exhaling on an exasperated huff.

"I'm sorry, Rose," he tried again, spreading his hands face up, and Rose turned from him, so that she wouldn't have to see the imploring look in his eyes. "But I just don't see it. What do you and Simon even have in common, anyway? You're about to marry the bloke, and I don't see you wanting to spend all that much time with him."

"You're really not being fair, Albus." She turned to her cousin, frowning at the concerned etched across his face.

He started to speak but she cut him off before he could begin.

"Look," she started, grabbing one of his hands, "I know Simon isn't the most romantic guy, and he often times says the wrong things or forgets which foods I don't like, but he loves me, Al. He's always taken care of me, and protected me, and he shows up whenever I need him to. That counts for a lot."

Al sighed heavily, but stayed silent.

"So it may not be the fairytale romance I dreamed of as a little girl, but he's reliable and he's safe." Rose smiled sadly at her cousin. "And crazy, heated passion is just for the storybooks, anyway, isn't it?"

He looked up at her with his green eyes, and smiled halfheartedly. "I love you, Rose," he said slowly, squeezing her hand, "and I trust your judgment on most things, but I think you're making a mistake here." He pulled her in for a hug, and she allowed herself to become encased in his warm arms, feeling rather like a kid again.

"Just trust me, Al," she murmured, pressed against his neck. "I can take care of myself."

"Okay," he said simply. "I trust you."

* * *

Saturday evening and James' birthday party came quicker than Rose would have liked. All day, she had sat at her office, filing paperwork and dreaming up various ways to get out of going to the event. Unfortunately, she hadn't come up with anything that would not have triggered the annoyingly acute sensors of her gigantic family. If she'd claimed she had work, her father or Uncle Harry would have relieved her of her duties. If she didn't attend because she said she was sick, her Nana Molly would have shown up on her doorstep with warm, fresh soup. There was no viable way to avoid going to James' birthday bash.

Rose dressed in a simple but elegant dark green sundress, pairing it with the wedge heels her mother had given her for her twenty-second birthday that made her stand a good three inches taller than her already statuesque five feet and seven (and a half) inches. She tended not to wear them, because they made her just that very slight bit taller than Simon, but today they felt necessary, like battle armor. Plus, they made her legs look nice.

Rose flooed to the Burrow alone, as Simon was due to arrive late to the party, when he had gotten off his shift at the hospital. Al and James had been at the house all day, playing Quidditch and swimming while Rose had been at work, and she found the pair of them now out in the garden, de-gnoming. The brothers had clearly grown bored of merely chucking the tiny gnomes over the hedge, and were now testing new Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products on the creatures, which Rose was not entirely sure was legal or moral.

"Oi!" She called to the boys, and they turned quickly, James hiding a particularly purple gnome behind his back. Rose laughed, sure that they'd feared she was their mum.

"Oh good, it's just you, Rosie." Al said, as James recovered the gnome he was holding. The tiny creature had other plans however, and bit James on the nose before waddling off to hide underneath a thick shrub.

"Happy Birthday, you old codger," Rose said, giving her older cousin a hug when he'd recovered from the shock of his gnome bite.

"Is that any way to speak to your elders?" he countered, but grinned widely and ruffled her hair as he did so.

"Where is everybody?" Rose asked, looking around the garden. Somebody had already set up a great number of tables around the large yard, magically elongated to fit the vast amount of guests that would surely be in attendance. The sky was still light, but fairy lights twinkled from the trees where Rose knew her grandfather had enchanted them to glow, ensuring that the party could last well into the evening in comfortable lighting.

"Lil and Roxy are in the kitchen helping Mum with the cake," Al supplied, wiping his dirty hands on his shorts, "I know Teddy and Vic are going to be arriving any second now, because Grandma Molly wanted to show Vic some of the old baby clothes she's saved from like, the Stone Ages or something. Last I saw, Louis and Fred were out in the shed with Grandad looking at one of his bizarre new Muggle toys," he ticked off on his fingers, counting the various cousins. He stopped, looking back up at Rose. "Dunno where everyone else is, at the moment."

"Too many people to keep tabs on, anyway." James said, nodding his head at his younger brother.

"You're telling me." Al said.

Eventually, the entire Weasley clan and extended family arrived, bringing with them an array of colorful and oddly-shaped gifts for the birthday boy. James, though he was well into his twenties, delighted at the arrival of each new present, making Rose laugh at his sheer excitement. Several of their school friends came as well, to Rose's great pleasure. She spent at least half an hour catching up with two of her old dorm mates from Gryffindor, Elizabeth Corner and Charlotte Walker, both of whom she'd been very close to and had somewhat lost touch with over the years. After making a promise to meet the girls for drinks sometime soon, Rose wandered off to find Al.

She passed Lily in the kitchen, who was openly flirting with one of James' teammates from the Tutshill Tornadoes while James and Fred looked on, disapprovingly.

"Have you seen Al?" Rose asked them, earning nothing more than irritated grunts in return. She rolled her eyes. The men in this family were far too overprotective for their own goods.

She moved into the front sitting room, looking for a shock of messy dark hair above the crowd. For a second, she thought she spied him, but it turned out to just be her Uncle Harry.

Not looking where she was going, Rose ran smack into a hard body.

Pain blossomed in her forehead where it had made contact with the other person, and her vision swam. Strong arms reached out to steady her as she swayed, and suddenly Rose felt herself being helped to the couch. Her eyes remained closed, but there was no mistaking that citrusy, woodsy smell that permeated her brain, making it go fuzzy.

 _Oh no._

When Rose finally opened her eyes, she met the grey ones of Scorpius Malfoy.

"Hi," she said weakly, not knowing quite what else to say.

He smiled back, looking a little unsure of himself. Rose made to stand, but immediately felt dizzy again. Scorpius frowned when she sunk back into the sofa, and conjured up an ice pack for her head.

"Sit." He ordered, and Rose was happy to obey.

They sat in uncomfortable silence, Rose pressing the cool ice to her throbbing headache while she tried not to meet his gaze. She was pleased to note that he had performed some kind of charm on the ice to keep it from melting all over her face. Scorpius chewed on his bottom lip, clearly stifling the need to expel whatever it was he had to say. Rose was thankful for his silence, she didn't know if she could deal just now with whatever emotions his speech would have brought forth for her.

Eventually, the pain in her head diminished, and she spoke. "Thanks for the…" she waved her hand at the ice pack, still frozen solid. "…you know."

He smiled, "You wouldn't have needed it if I hadn't run into you in the first place."

She returned his grin with one of her own. "No, it was my fault. It's these damned heels, they make me too tall and clumsy." She moved to take them off, reaching down to unhook a buckle.

Rose missed the way that Scorpius' gaze painstakingly travelled the length of her long legs, but heard the ragged edge to his voice when he spoke. "Leave them. I think you look… you look amazing, Rose."

She colored all the way to the roots of her hair.

Rose suddenly realized that they were in a room full of her family members. Spying, prodding, prying family members who couldn't leave their noses out of everybody else's business…

Scorpius seemed to come to the same realization.

"D'you want to go somewhere?" he asked, coming to his feet swiftly.

Rose nodded, and somehow found herself in the company of the one person she'd vowed to avoid all night.

They weaved through the crowd, a sea of people with red hair and freckles to match Rose's own. It was slow going, as they were stopped several times by various family members of Rose's who wanted to wish Scorpius well and to remark on his miraculous recovery. Rose realized only now that he had been at least passingly friendly with most of her relatives in their school days, or in the workforce post-Hogwarts, which shocked her greatly. Had she been the only Weasley to not get to know Scorpius at school based on his own merits instead of his name alone? She didn't think of herself as a prejudiced person, but in this moment, she wondered if she were truly no better than Simon when it came to judging people before knowing them.

After rescuing Scorpius from her cousin Fred, who was rather distastefully recounting the events of Scorpius' own funeral to him, they looked to be in the clear.

"Malfoy!" came a deep voice to their right. Rose recognized its tones immediately.

"Mr. Weasley," Scorpius said, offering his hand to Rose's father.

"Ron," he insisted, giving the blond man a smile, much to Rose's shock. "It's great to see you up and about again. Healer Lawrence said you've made a miraculous recovery considering the severity of your injuries."

"Well, I had amazing help from the hospital staff," Scorpius said, flashing the grin Rose liked so much, "and visitors who kept my morale high." He glanced furtively at Rose, smiling shyly.

Ron looked at his daughter, his red brows raised, and then back at Scorpius. He too smiled, clapping one large hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Well, like I said, I'm glad to see you doing so well. If you have time this week, I'd like to meet to discuss your future in the Auror department."

"Yes, sir." Scorpius said, his face lighting up once more.

"I'll send you an owl." Ron said, before smiling at his daughter and disappearing back into the sea of Weasleys.

"Come on," Rose took his hand, seeing their opening, and led him into the back garden.

It took a few minutes, but they finally found a section of the yard that was not populated with party guests. Rose sat underneath a large willow tree, overlooking the pond she and her cousins had swum in every summer during their holidays from school, and invited Scorpius to join her. He sat on the dew-damp grass, leaning up against the ancient bark of the tree.

Nobody said sorry for their last encounter at the hospital, but it hung in the air between them, palpable but not unpleasantly so. Rose found that she did not necessarily want him to apologize, after all. She got the feeling that he wouldn't mean it, anyway.

Neither spoke for a few moments, watching the twinkling fairy lights light up the water, their reflections dancing in the ripples of the pond.

"I saw my father today," Scorpius said suddenly, his gaze never leaving the water.

Rose said nothing, but turned to look at him, surprised.

"He came to help me set up my new flat, he brought lunch." Scorpius sighed heavily, plucking a blade of grass from the ground in front of him. "He apologized for never coming to see me in St. Mungo's… said it was too hard. He said…" he angrily picked another blade, throwing it at the pond, "He said that my capture was his fault, for being involved with the Dark Arts when he was young. He thinks my captors were trying to teach him a lesson."

He laughed bitterly, pulling a wildflower from its roots and picking off each petal one by one. "And all I could think was… he's not wrong."

Rose placed a hand on Scorpius' knee, absentmindedly drawing circles on his kneecap to comfort him.

Scorpius looked at her hand, then at her face.

His eyes became two molten pools of grey, and Rose found herself captivated. His face took on a determined, blazing look.

"Rose," he said, his eyes roaming hungrily over her as if trying to memorize every plane of her face, "you have to know, you must know… everything I did, breaking out of that hell, was to be with you."

He continued, his hands coming to rest on her cheeks. Rose felt as though his eyes were burning through her, they were too intense, and yet she found she could not look away.

"The only thing that kept me alive all those years was the image of your face, and knowing that I wasn't ready to give up yet, on the chance that you might love me, too."

Rose couldn't breathe, her heart was beating such a frantic rhythm in her chest.

"Don't marry him, Rose. Please… please, Merlin, don't marry him."

For the first time in three long years, his mouth found hers in a scorching, numbing, mind-blowing kiss.

* * *

 **A/N: I usually try to let my readers develop their own feelings about my characters, without commentary from me, but I just wanted to clear up a point. A lot of you are saying that Simon seems like an ass, and so I think I may have been too harsh in the way I have written him in the last few chapters, because I actually have a bit of a soft spot for him. I think he is one of those guys who is the perfect picture of a gentleman, and has been heavily influenced by his upbringing as far as right and wrong, and truly believes that all Malfoys are evil, because that's what the history books say. He is definitely not a villain, and that's why this decision is so difficult for Rose. And after all, I think that our dear Rosie is smart enough not to agree to marry a total jerk, don't you? Remember, characters are more than 2-dimensional and everybody has redeeming qualities. It's my own fault if this has not been sufficiently clear in the story, and I will do my best to improve upon this in my writing from this point on :) All right, off my soap box now. Thanks for reading, guys! Next chapter should be up sooooooon, but reviews make it come faster! (hint hint, wink wink)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey, everybody! So sorry for the delay in posting this - real life got in the way, as it often does. For a happy reason though - I got MARRIED! So in all of the wedding craze and various family members visiting, this is the first real chance I have gotten to update in a while. Sorry bout that. Chapter 11 is nearly finished the way I want it, so it should be up within the week, back to usual on my posting schedule. Also, I have the outline for the rest of the story and several bits and pieces written, and it should be about four or five more chapters after this. I can't believe it!**

 **Thanks, as always, to my incredible reviewers. You are such an inspiration and please know that I read each and every review and try to take in your suggestions and comments.**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to me! (In my dreams)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _Three Years Ago._

 _March and April, 2026_

* * *

"God, I've been waiting all day to-"

"Mmmm…"

"I'm pretty sure Anders knows what we're up to, though…"

"Well, maybe if you didn't keep ogling my arse in front of everyone -"

"Well, maybe if your arse didn't look so _nice_ in those –"

Rose giggled and responded by sucking on Scorpius' earlobe, in the place she had recently discovered he liked.

"Agh, _Merlin, Circe, Rose…_ " he panted, shoved against the corner of the storeroom closet, but not seeming to mind all that much.

Rose laughed openly, her hands raking through his fine strands of thick blond hair. "I didn't know I was up there with Merlin and Circe," she joked.

He smirked impishly down at her, and Rose wondered how she had ever found his smile arrogant before. "If you keep that up, you'll have your own chocolate frog card in no time at all." He said, easily slipping into their practiced banter. "It'll say, Rose Weasley: Dead sexy Witch, particularly skilled at – "

Rose never learned what she was particularly skilled at (though she could guess, as Scorpius had rather vocal lately about her – ahem – _achievements),_ because suddenly a sharp knock came from the door of the cupboard. The two of them stilled, Rose silently panicking in the darkness.

"Um… Rose? Malfoy?" Anders' sheepish voice came from the other side of the door. "Jones wants to see the two of you about something."

Rose closed her eyes and sighed, mortified at being caught in one of their trysts. Though to be honest, they hadn't exactly been the most discreet. For the last two months since they had come back from their assignment in the Peak District, she and Scorpius had made use of every storage closet, nook, and cranny at the Ministry. Why, just last week they had been nearly caught in the act in the middle of the trainees' locker rooms. She blushed at the thought.

Suddenly, Rose wondered what Jones needed to speak to them about. What if she knew about the episode in the locker room and wanted to reprimand them? Or the time in the Ministry elevator?

Merlin, she was going to be sacked for destruction of Ministry property.

She would disgrace the family name, her mother would be devastated, her father would cease speaking to her…

Oh bugger, they weren't going to tell her father what she'd been doing with Malfoy, were they?

Blind with worry, Rose followed Scorpius and a still very pink Anders through the Auror offices, to where Jones' desk was. The two entered the cubicle, guilty looks on their faces. Rose waited for the scolding lecture she was sure to come.

However, Helen seemed rather preoccupied as she leafed through the papers on her desk, barely looking up to wave her hand in a gesture for them to sit. Rose glanced at Scorpius quickly, finding that he was chewing on his lower lip in nervous anticipation. Despite her anxiety, she found she could not look away from his plump lip being raked between his impeccably white teeth. Rose found that she rather would like to be the one biting it…

She hastily turned her attention back to her boss, pinching the palms of her hand with her fingernails to keep from looking back over at Scorpius.

Rose wondered inwardly when it was that she had completely and utterly lost her mind. This whole thing with Malfoy was… confusing, to say the least. Confusing and exciting and completely exhilarating. And bloody barmy. Where did she think it would lead?

It had started off, that day in the Pomona's cottage in Buxton, as purely a physical attraction fueled by the adrenaline of nearly losing their lives. They'd been together three total times during that stay, and then when they got back to the Ministry to report their mission's findings, they had acted like impassive acquaintances once again. Rose had apparated to her flat that day in February thinking that the last few days – though fun – would stay firmly in the past.

For two weeks, they had been passably civil to one another at training, and only spoke when necessary. They did not go back to the taunting, teasing relationship they had once had, before the mission, but they were not friends, either. Instead, it was as if the slate of history between them had been wiped clean, and they both remained rather indifferent to each other. At least to the public eye.

Inside, Rose burned for a man she had never known she had feelings for beyond intense irritation and hate. Every time he was concentrated on something difficult and got that wrinkle in his brow, marring his perfect features, she couldn't help but stare. One particularly warm training session, he rolled up the sleeves of his Auror robes, and she saw the corded muscles in his arms, reminding her of a time when he gripped her and held her close. Twice that same day, he laughed jovially, without his usual cool and calm restraint, and Rose was mesmerized by his dazzling smile and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled upwards. She couldn't breathe.

They were the last two people in the locker rooms after training that day, and when Scorpius was finally hanging up his Aurors' robes in his cubby, Rose had jumped him. All day – hell, the past two weeks – she had been fighting her own intense attraction to him, and she couldn't hold back anymore. And when he'd responded with as much wild enthusiasm as she felt, she knew he must have been aching for her in the same way.

Now, sitting in Jones' office nearly two months later, Rose wondered if it had all been worth it. Since that day in the locker room, they had used every free moment to be together. It started out as just an office hook up, but recently, Scorpius had been apparating over to her flat on their days off as well, more often than not spending the whole night. It was a good job that Al had such a demanding work schedule, or he would have been woken to the sight of Scorpius Malfoy sneaking out of Rose's bedroom more than once. As it was, Rose knew Albus must be cottoning on to the fact that she'd been having a night visitor, though she'd told him nothing explicitly.

Rose often wondered why it was that she couldn't come right out and tell Al that she was sleeping with Scorpius Malfoy. Pride, she supposed. Rose had spent the last eight years of her life hating the man, and now she was learning that she had judged the book by its cover all those years ago. But even beyond that, there was something holding her back. She knew that this _thing_ with Scorpius, whatever it was, was fated to end, and probably badly. There was her family, for one thing. Sure, her father seemed to grudgingly like the younger Malfoy as an Auror trainee, and perhaps even as a friend to Rose, but she dreaded to see his face if she were to actually _date_ a Malfoy. What would he think? What would he say?

And then there was Scorpius' family, as well. Rose knew that his father, Draco, had spent his life trying to regain the good graces of Wizarding society, and amend the wrongs he had done during the time of the war. Her mother had always said nice things about his mother, Astoria, and Rose knew that she had even extended the warm feelings to Scorpius' father, despite their history. But his grandparents were another thing, entirely. From the little Scorpius had talked about them, his grandfather seemed to still uphold the Malfoy values of good breeding and pedigree, even if he did not make those sentiments well-known. She would never be entirely accepted by his family.

It was really too bad, though, because the more time Rose spent with Scorpius, the more she found that she really did like him. Not that she would admit that to anybody, and especially not to Scorpius himself.

Whatever feelings she'd possibly developed for her blond training partner aside, Rose felt as she sat nervously in Jones' office that perhaps they'd made a huge mistake. After all, her career was supposed to be at the forefront of her mind. She had worked her whole life to be an Auror for the Ministry, and now she was jeopardizing that opportunity for a romp in the storage closet with Scorpius Malfoy, of all people.

Jones cleared her throat, and Rose readied herself for a reprimand. However, it never came.

"Malfoy, Weasley," their trainer looked at each of them respectively, weariness evident in her hazel-green eyes. "The Auror department was impressed with your dedication to your mission in February, and calls upon you again to continue your work with the project." Rose blinked. She had been expecting a lecture, not praise.

Helen continued, "Unfortunately, that means that you will once again have to forgo your training for your assignment, for two weeks this time. With your help, the Aurors have closed in on a rough area of where they believe the rebel camps to be, and they need help going in to capture the dark wizards at large."

Rose nodded seriously, fear gripping her heart. Their last mission had been a fairly safe stakeout, by Auror standards, and they had nearly gotten themselves blown to bits. What would this next one entail?

"Auror Potter also wanted you to know that your descriptions of the bomb-like objects being magically modified has been an immense help, and that the Ministry's Unspeakables are working rapidly to find a way to detonate the devices. We could not have learned so much about their methods of weaponry without your firsthand accounts."

Jones handed the two of them new pamphlets, much like the ones they had received before their first mission, two months ago.

"You leave in two weeks." She said simply, looking at them with her sharp, intense eyes. "Good luck."

* * *

For the most part, Rose put their impending mission out of her mind for the next thirteen days. She spent time with her family, attending a large party at the Burrow with all of her family members to welcome back Victoire and Teddy from their extended honeymoon travelling across Asia. She went to dinner at her Mum and Dad's for Easter, and was happy to see her little brother Hugo home from Hogwarts. She spent her Friday afternoons with Albus, as always, catching up on their work and lives as they always did, though she tactfully omitted anything about her own love life, despite his gentle prodding.

But most of all, Rose spend time with Scorpius. Somehow, it had become a normal, every day thing for him to apparate over at night, either after training sessions or when they were done with their various family commitments for the day. Some days they would make frantic, passionate love, their limbs and sheets entangled in the sweaty glorious mess Rose had become accustomed to. Sometimes they would just talk, about everything and nothing in particular. She told him the mundane details of her family life, and he would listen to her prattle on about how Roxanne was pissing her off lately, or how she was both disgusted and impressed that James had three different girlfriends who knew nothing about one another.

Scorpius rarely talked about his own family, saying that hers was much more interesting, but when he did, he talked in a hushed tone, gentler and shyer than Rose had ever imagined he could be. He told her of his lonely childhood, how he'd befriended the House Elves because he had no siblings to play with. His mother had wanted more children, he'd said, but had suffered several miscarriages after his own birth, and had finally given up on giving Scorpius a brother or sister.

Rose listened with fascination as he talked about his family expectations, and the legacy placed upon him. The night before their assignment began found the two of them in Rose's bed, talking about that very topic.

"Grandfather never placed any prejudices about blood status, or anything like that upon me," he said, sitting criss-crossed on Rose's bed while she lay with her head in his lap. He absentmindedly fingered a stray red curl that had splayed itself on his pale leg. "At least not directly, anyway. I think my father was a big part of that, though, and warned Grandfather not to do so if he wanted to continue to see me. His expectation was more that I be the very best at everything."

Rose laughed, smiling up at him. "But that's a ridiculous expectation to place on a child, nobody can be the best at _everything._ "

Scorpius laughed too, softly. He countered, "Especially not with you there to beat my marks in Charms every term."

Rose smirked. "Hope your grandfather wasn't too upset to have you settle for second best."

He laughed, a true ringing sound that Rose was getting to hear more and more often these days. Then he stopped, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry if I was a real prat to you at school, Weasley" he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

Rose sat up slightly, resting her arms on the bed to support herself. She smiled softly, "It's all right, you weren't too bad, really. Or at least, I never helped matters either. If I hadn't fueled your fire, I suspect you would have just ignored me at school, like most everybody did."

Rose had never mentioned this before to anybody except Al – how in a mass of talented and exuberant Weasleys, she felt rather bland and unremarkable. Sure, she was bright, but she had never flaunted it, so most people just accepted it without any surprise or admiration. She was her mother's daughter, after all, it probably would have been more remarkable if she had not been so bright. Rose knew she was nice looking, but not nearly as beautiful as her part-Veela cousins or exotic Roxie. She was decently nice, and funny, and a fair flyer, but nothing extraordinary all-around. Being accepted into Auror training was the first thing Rose had done that made her stand out from her cousins, and yet her father and Uncle had done it before her.

In a family full of high-achievers, it was easier to just blend in with the crowd and not draw too much attention.

Scorpius frowned, creating the crinkle in his brow that Rose liked. He looked serious and yet somehow serene as he reached for her face, cupping it in his own hand.

"I don't think I ever could have ignored you, Rose." He said.

Suddenly, the room felt as if it were several degrees warmer, despite the cool spring breeze coming in through Rose's open window. Slowly, tantalizingly, he lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her lips in a kiss. Though they had shared tender, sweet kisses before, Rose knew this one was different. Somehow, this one meant much, much more. She poured out all of the feelings she suddenly knew to be true, but could not say, back into the kiss, his warm mouth moving against her own in a deliciously sweet rhythm.

Nobody had ever seen her before, not like this. His kiss was full of passion, and for the first time, Rose felt as though she were the most visible and most radiant member of the Weasley family.

* * *

Morning came too quickly for Rose's liking. The early dawn streamed through the window, its chilly morning breeze accompanying it, making Rose pull the covers tighter up to her chin. She rolled over, trying to edge herself closer to Scorpius' warmth, but found that he was not there. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking until her bedroom came into focus. Scorpius was nowhere to be found. She frowned.

Rose padded in her socked feet into the living room, still rubbing her bleary eyes with her palms. She halted when she saw Al sitting at the kitchen table, casually eating an apple.

"Good morning," she said cautiously to her cousin, not knowing whether or not he'd encountered Scorpius in their flat or whether he was still blissfully unaware.

"Morning," Al said, crunching into his apple, his eyes meeting hers. One of his dark eyebrows rose up in a question, and Rose knew in an instant that he knew about Scorpius.

She sat at the table, across from him, her eyes peering into his green ones, searching for a shred of evidence on how he felt about the matter. She got nothing from his guarded green eyes.

"So," he started conversationally, chewing his apple. "When'd you start sleeping with Malfoy?"

Rose closed her eyes in shame at being caught. She could feel the familiar Weasley blush creeping up her cheeks. "Two months ago." She said, her eyes still closed.

Al whistled low and softly.

She opened her eyes to see a smirk on her cousin's face, and his eyes alight with mirth. Rose instantly bristled, annoyed that Al was seemingly laughing at her. She huffed and made a move to get up, but was stopped by his hand on her wrist.

"Rose, come on, I'm not making fun of you. I'm just curious as to why nobody knew about this for two whole months." His bottle green eyes raked hers, concerned.

She sighed, sinking back down into her seat, splaying her hands on the tabletop, faced up. "I don't know how or why it happened, Al, I never meant to get so involved with him." Rose shook her head as she faced upwards, her red curls bouncing around her face.

Al grabbed one of her hands in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

"So involved? Rosie, do you love him?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as if he already knew the answer.

Rose felt a warmth spread through her entire body as she considered the question. "I… I don't know," she finally answered, "I think I-"

"Rose?" came a voice from around the corner in the living room, accompanied by a light thumping sound. She looked at Al quickly, then got up from the table to see what was going on.

Scorpius appeared in the kitchen, smiling sheepishly.

"Sorry I left," he said, smiling shyly at her, "I only just remembered that I hadn't packed at all for our mission, so I went home to get some stuff." He raised the black Ministry-issue duffel bag he carried in his left arm, as if to show off the evidence.

Rose smiled back at him, relieved that he hadn't merely left without saying goodbye.

He looked back at her, guiltily, "And… I ran into Al on my way out." He admitted, glancing at the other boy in the room.

"That's all right," Rose said, honestly okay with the situation. She checked her wristwatch and gasped, astounded at the time. "I've really got to go and pack some stuff, as well. Why don't you make breakfast for our guest, Al?" She glanced pointedly at her cousin, then turned back to Scorpius. "Al makes great eggs." She offered, as she walked towards her bedroom. The two boys grinned at each other, and got to work in the kitchen.

By the time Rose was showered and ready, the smells from the direction of the kitchen had become irresistibly delicious. She walked in, ready to tell Al that he had outdone himself, to find Scorpius, wearing the lavender apron her mum had bought for Rose's 18th birthday present, dishing up what looked like eggs benedict. Al sat at the table with the Daily Prophet, looking utterly useless.

Rose grabbed the paper from him, and hit him with it. "Al!" She hissed, "You're not supposed to make a guest cook your meals for you!" She was ready to remind him that their grandmother would be appalled at such terrible hospitality when Scorpius gently guided her to a seat, where a rather delectable-looking plate of eggs benedict was waiting for her.

"I tried," Al said, digging into his food with gusto, "But he insisted I let him cook."

Scorpius sat down at the table next to Rose, still wearing the frilly apron, "He's right," he said to Rose, filling up her glass halfway with pumpkin juice and mixing the rest with apple juice, exactly the way she liked. He handed it to her as she blushed, surprised that he knew her favorite drink, as Al looked on with a bemused expression. She took a bite of the breakfast, and found that it was absolutely wonderful. "After all, I can be very, _very_ stubborn." He said, sipping his own juice as he winked at Rose. She nearly choked on her bacon.

The rest of breakfast passed in much of the same manner. Rose was utterly bemused and flabbergasted at how sweet and romantic Scorpius was being in front of Al – acting almost like her boyfriend. Albus, for his part, made several light-hearted jokes about how sickeningly sweet the two of them were, but rather than becoming stony and cold, as Rose would have previously expected Malfoy to react to these jabs, he seemed to take them in stride, and even delight in them. In fact, by the end of the meal, Rose was seriously considering asking her cousin if he'd slipped the other boy a love potion while she'd been in the shower.

Both Rose and Al insisted on cleaning up the plates, while Scorpius went off to the loo to brush his teeth and get ready. They cleaned in relative silence, Rose washing and Albus drying, until the last cups were being scrubbed and put away.

"So when are you going to tell Uncle Ron?" Al asked innocently.

Rose raised an eyebrow at her cousin. "Well seeing as we're not dating, I don't really see a reason he ever has to know." She countered pointedly.

"Rose," he said, drying his last dish and placing it in the cabinet, "Any idiot can see the way you two feel about each other. Now, is this a case of lying to me, or lying to yourself?"

Before Rose could answer, however, Scorpius emerged from the bathroom, poking his head into the kitchen.

"Time to go, Weasley," he said, holding out his watch so that she could see the time, "we're going to be late."

Rose smiled at her cousin, and pecked him on the cheek before picking up her bag from the corner and walking after Scorpius into the living room, preparing to apparate to the Ministry to begin their mission.

"We are talking about this later!" Al yelled after her, and she laughed.

Holding Scorpius' warm hand in hers, they both twisted on their heels and disappeared.

* * *

 **A/N: Next few chapters are BIG ones! Reviews make them come faster!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I wasn't planning on posting this so soon after the last chapter, but I just got really excited about this one. I hope you guys all enjoy it! It feels like the story is really coming to its climax, and that is very very exciting for me as a writer! Please let me know what you think!**

 **Disclaimer: JKR is Queen.**

* * *

 _May 26_ _th_ _, 2029_

 _Present Day._

* * *

It took Rose all of thirty seconds to realize that she should not be kissing Scorpius Malfoy in her grandparents' backyard.

She was _engaged_ , for Merlin's sake, to another man.

Rose detached herself from Malfoy and stood, as quickly as possible. She could see him through the darkness, sitting stock still where she'd left him in the grass, peering up at her, breathing heavily from their kiss.

"I can't do this," she told him wildly, blindly, "I have to go." With that, she turned on her heel and apparated into the night.

Rose appeared again in the flat that she and Al shared, and immediately began pacing anxiously. It was not like her to run away from situations, but this had gotten out of hand, and she didn't see any way around it. She had to get away from Malfoy before she'd done something regretful and thrown all caution to the wind. Rose was a rational, reasonable person, but when it came to Scorpius Malfoy, it seemed that all bets were off. Rose knew that was a dangerous way to live.

It was only when she was alone that she realized she'd not only skipped out on James' birthday party, but had left before Simon, her _fiancé,_ had even arrived. She was going to have to make some good excuses later on. Merlin, why did she even go to the party in the first place?

Less than a minute after she'd apparated, she heard another loud _pop_ join her. _Bollocks,_ Rose thought to herself. She knew who it would be, even before she turned around. Of course she'd forgotten in her haste that Scorpius had been to her flat before, all those years ago.

She turned to him, wild fear in her eyes, her hair whipping out of its carefully designed updo.

"We need to talk about this," he insisted, his demeanor startlingly cool and calm.

"You need to get out of my flat." She countered, giving up on trying to fix her hair and angrily tearing her curls from their fancy chignon.

"Rose," he said, firmly, "you can't run from me every time I try to tell you how I feel about you."

' For the first time, Rose found she was unarmed with a sarcastic or biting retort. She was confused, and she was heartbroken. And most of all, Rose was tired.

"Please just leave." She pleaded, sinking into a chair at their small dining table, her head in her hands. She looked like the ultimate picture of defeat.

Rose heard a chair scrape out from the table beside her and his weight drop into it. He sighed, and tentative hands began to smooth the wild curls away from her face. She instinctively leaned into his warm palm, despite her begging him to go.

"Rose." He said quietly after a moment's pause. She said nothing in return, but she could feel hot, wet tears prickle at the corners of her eyes.

"I know you don't want to hear it right now," he continued, "but I need you to know how I feel about you. You have no idea, it absolutely kills me that in a month, you will be married to somebody that isn't me."

Rose choked back a sob, not trusting herself to speak.

"I was wasting away in that stupid cell, with nothing to live for until they mentioned your wedding announcement in the paper. Rose, it's like I knew in an instant why I was still alive. I knew I needed to find you, to tell you what I couldn't say all those years ago when the time was right."

He turned his chair, so that he was sitting directly in front of Rose, and used his hand to raise her chin, so that their eyes were on an equal level. He stared into her blue orbs, and the emotions dancing across his face read as clearly to Rose as they ever had. She knew what he was going to say, and yet she waited with baited breath for the words she'd longed to hear for years, from a man she never thought she'd get the chance to hear them from. It seemed almost surreal, as if everything around them moved in a slow-motion dream sequence. Rose counted each of his long eyelashes, and marveled at how dark they were, compared to his fine, fair hair. The moment stretched on for what seemed like years, or perhaps an eternity, while Rose waited for the words she'd yearned to hear for years.

Scorpius seemed to understand her train of thought, because he gave her a sad smile and cupped her cheek before speaking softly.

"I love you, Rose Weasley." He said, breathing his warm, sweet breath over her face. "I can't bear the idea of you marrying another man, because I want to be the one to spend my life making you happy. I'm not saying to chuck him and marry me instead, because I'm not crazy enough to think that you would be happy moving on that fast, but _please,_ Rose. If there is even the slightest chance that you feel the same about me - the way I think you do, _please_ reconsider this wedding."

As Rose listened, she felt a million mixed emotions bubbling inside her, threatening to spill over. Relief, as she had expected, and a thrilling tingle that coursed through her veins. But there was more than just that. _It's not fair._ She thought to herself, suddenly incensed. _After all this time, it's not fair._ At this last thought, she rose from her chair furiously.

"It's not that easy!" She yelled, her chest heaving. He stopped, finally shocked into silence. She took a deep breath, centering herself, and continued. "It's not as easy as all this. You don't get to just come back into my life after three years to derail my life and muck everything up; you don't get to do that."

He listened, stock-still, only his grey eyes roving over her face, as she spoke.

"You don't understand, Scorpius," she choked out, "When you died that day, a part of me died along with you. I was… _Merlin!_ I was less than a shell." Her hands came up to massage her temples, and she prayed to some higher power that she could make it through what she needed to say without succumbing to her emotions and breaking down. "I thought I would never be happy again. You left me… all on my own."

His mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. Rose continued, finding it difficult to meet his gaze.

"It took me months - no, _years_ to be happy again, and Simon was a big part of that process. And that's why this is so damned complicated." She smiled sadly, knowing she was fighting a losing battle as far as tears were concerned.

The deafening silence threatened to engulf them as Rose wrung her hands worriedly, holding back the words that terrified her to the core. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she paced around the kitchen. Rose hiccupped loudly and suddenly realized the full extent of ridiculousness of the situation. She laughed, sounding half-manic, half tortured. More laughter bubbled up inside her, until she was expelling loud cackles that turned into choking sobs. Scorpius looked on helplessly, his face a mixed bag of emotions. Rose fought to regain composure for a moment, before deciding to just let it be.

"I love you, Scorpius," she said through her tears, finally able to meet his eyes again. "I've loved you for years… I just…" she stifled a cry, "…I don't know if I could go through the pain of losing you again."

She didn't know when he had gotten up from his chair, but suddenly, Scorpius was right next to her, wrapping his strong arms around her quaking torso. Rose stilled for a moment, fearful that he would try to kiss her again. Her guard was completely torn down, and she didn't know if she could resist him any further if he were to kiss her now. But he simply rested his chin atop her head, his hands making comforting circular motions on her back as he held her pressed to his warm chest.

Rose breathed in his familiar scent, calming her frazzled nerves. Just when she had regained some semblance of self-control, Scorpius gently kissed the top of her head, and she felt the tears prick at the corner of her eyes again.

"You don't have to lose me," he murmured while holding her so tightly, as if she would slip away otherwise. "You never have to be without me again, Rose."

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, breathing out the words more than speaking them, "I wish things could be different."

Several moments passed before he said anything, and when he did, Rose had to strain to hear the words he sighed back in response.

"So do I," he said.

* * *

Rose was a mess.

She called off sick for a week, ate all her meals from delivery services that her owl, Marjorie, delivered straight to her room. When Al knocked on her door, worried and confused, she could give no real answer as to why she felt this way, only that she did.

"Should I get Simon for you?" he asked, and Rose could just picture him on the other side of the thick wooden door, running his hands through his jet black hair the way he always did when he was troubled.

"No," Rose sighed, burrowing deeper into her thick duvet. "I just want to be alone."

She continued on this way until Friday evening, ignoring all owls from her family and friends, and avoiding human contact at all costs. That is, until it marched its way in.

Rose was awakened by a firm voice saying "Lumos." Suddenly, everything in her room was much, much too bright.

"Rose Weasley," the voice snapped, making her feel instantly ten years old, "Get out of bed, this has gone on long enough."

"Mum?" she said, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. Finally, the older, frizzy-haired woman came into focus, standing at the foot of her bed with her arms crossed in a way Rose knew meant business.

Hermione sighed heavily, smoothing down the corner of the bed so that she could sit upon it, next to her daughter. As her mother looked into her eyes, Rose was concerned to see that her fizzy hair had tinges of grey streaked through it and there were worried wrinkles on her forehead that she had not previously noticed, though they must have been there before. For the first time, Rose marveled at the fact that her parents, the strongest and most brilliant people she knew, were getting older. She wished suddenly very much to be back at home, eleven years old and full of life and naivety about the world around her.

"Oh mum," she said, and folded into the arms of the older woman, tucking her head beneath her mother's pointed chin.

They stayed for a moment like that, breathing in and out. Rose struggled against the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes as she hugged her mum as if her life depended on it. When was the last time they had done this?

Finally, Hermione pulled back, wiping the wetness from Rose's eyes and smoothing down her red curls tenderly. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" She probed gently.

Rose looked at her hands, wondering how to find the words.

"What if… what if the plans you made for yourself and the life you thought you wanted somehow suddenly feels… wrong?" she started, frowning. She looked up at her mother to see warm, understanding brown eyes and felt compelled to continue. "It's just that… I thought everything was so planned and perfect, and now it all seems as if everything has changed."

"Oh Rosie," her mother began, with a small smile, "There's no way to plan for what life happens to throw at you next. You just have to take things as they come, and make the best decision for you at the time."

"Even if it hurts somebody?" Rose couldn't help but ask.

Hermione frowned, and sighed deeply. "Sometimes," she began slowly, "Hurting somebody now, no matter how bad it may be, can save even more heartache in the long run."

Rose nodded, understanding what her mother was trying to say. She smiled up at the older woman, and received an identical one in return. Rose had been told all her life how much she looked like her father, with his height and his ginger coloring, but she had the smile and the spirit of her mother.

"Mum?" Rose couldn't resist asking one more question. Hermione raised an eyebrow, allowing Rose to continue. "How did you know, when you knew – When you knew that dad was the one for you?" She blushed slightly.

Hermione laughed, her brown eyes sparkling. "I didn't know, not for a long time," she admitted, shrugging, "But when I knew, it was because I admired him, and admired the way he treated me, and made me feel. Above all, we respected each other and worked well as a team. That's how I knew." She touched her daughter's cheek lovingly. "And I'm so glad I did know, because it gave me you, and your brother. And you two are my very, very best achievements."

Rose beamed up at her mum, feeling as if the weight had been lifted off her heart for the first time in weeks.

"Though that was probably spurred more by the physical attraction than our mutual respect, to be honest." Hermione added.

"Ugh! Mum! Gross!" Rose pulled a face, and then laughed, despite herself.

Hermione got up, making her way to the door.

"I suggest you shower and get dressed, your grandmother is throwing you and Simon a shower before the wedding. I figured you'd forgotten," She explained, tossing a parcel onto the bed. "So I got you some dress robes to wear. Nana Molly is insisting that this party at least be in the Wizarding tradition, since the wedding itself won't be. I will see you tonight."

She paused in the doorway, and turned back to Rose, who was still on the bed, clutching the package of her dress robes.

"And Rose? I have every confidence that you'll make the right choice."

Rose smiled and nodded. She knew what she needed to do.

* * *

 **Yay! Another chapter done - sorry it was a bit short, but very important scenes obviously. More to come very, very soon!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long. Work + life + fear of writing this chapter... you know the drill. Sorry. Here it is. It's a bigg'un. Hope it was worth the wait!**

 **Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything, and I am just a little insignificant bug playing in her pool of genius.**

* * *

 _Two Years Ago_

 _May 14_ _th_ _, 2026_

* * *

The Ministry was quieter than Rose ever remembered it being. Too early for the hustle and bustle of witches and wizards on the way to their jobs, the atrium was nearly devoid of life, save for a small gathering of Aurors standing near a pile of discarded, random items that Rose assumed must be portkeys.

She spotted a shock of red towering above the crowd, and headed towards her father, making sure to gently disentangle her hand from Scorpius' as she did so.

"Rosie," he said when he saw her, grabbing her in for a hug. Rose smiled as she was pressed against his warm chest.

"Hey, dad."

"Listen to me, Rose," Ron said, pulling away and holding her at arm's length. "I am trying really very hard to be a professional and not act like your father right now, but I want you to promise me you'll be careful on this mission, and listen to your squad leaders."

Rose rolled her eyes, already bored of her family's overprotectiveness. "I promise I'll be careful, dad." She said, and he handed her a fresh pamphlet.

"Good," he said. "We're sending Aurors in waves, and you're some of the first to go today, so stay vigilant. Your portkey leaves in fifteen minutes."

Rose spent the remaining time in the atrium meeting her various squad members for the mission. Included was the round-faced woman who had spoken to her during their last mission meeting, whose name she learned was Amalia. They chatted for a while, as Rose pretended not to be distracted by Scorpius, who stood ten metres away, talking to her father, of all people. Though Ron Weasley wasn't accompanying the Aurors on this particular mission, he seemed to be debriefing several of them before they made their journeys. Rose was startled to realize that Scorpius seemed to be telling her dad a joke – and Ron was laughing heartily, as if the two men were old friends. A warm sensation bubbled up in the pit of Rose's stomach as she watched them.

"Good for Malfoy," Amalia said, looking off in the direction Rose was focused. "It can't be easy to gain approval when your girlfriend's father is Ron Weasley." She winked at Rose, her face split in a wide grin.

"He's – we're not –" spluttered Rose, defending their relationship status for the second time already that morning. Amalia seemed to believe her just as much as Albus had.

"Right, Weasley," she said, grabbing ahold of her portkey, which was scheduled to leave just a few minutes before Rose's own. "Whatever you say."

With one last wink, she and her partner vanished on the spot.

Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head tiredly, but for whose benefit, she didn't know. Why was she still denying their relationship? Maybe it was time to just throw caution to the wind and jump right into this _thing_ with Scorpius head-first. Was she mixing metaphors? Did she care?

"Hey," came a soft voice from behind her, and she turned to see Scorpius, close enough so that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. He looked down at her with a secret smile, as if he knew her thoughts. Rose suddenly found herself worrying that he did – they weren't taught legilimency until the second year of Auror training, but Scorpius had always been ambitious and intelligent beyond his years. She peered up at him, suspicious.

Scorpius looked back at her, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

 _Blink twice if you can hear me._ Rose thought, feeling silly.

Scorpius' eyes stayed narrowed, but open, as he looked down at her. "Rose?" he said, sounding concerned.

"Sorry," Rose said, blushing to her roots, "just… checking something."

"Right," he said, smiling cheekily, "sounds like someone didn't get enough sleep last night."

 _"_ And whose fault is that, Malfoy?" She countered, all too aware that her father stood only just out of earshot.

He leaned down close to her, and she caught a whiff of his intoxicating scent. "Mine." He said, a trace of humor easily detectable in his voice. He shoved something into Rose's hand, and she looked down to see that they were jointly holding an old deflated Muggle football. She had only one moment to look back into Scorpius' laughing grey eyes in surprise, before she felt the familiar twist behind her navel, and they were off into the spinning vortex, propelled by the portkey. Rose could vaguely glimpse twisting images beyond, but her eyes were rooted to his, and to one singular thought.

 _I love him,_ she realized wildly.

Rose felt the inexplicable urge to laugh.

They landed with a thump, and the laughter died from Rose's throat in an instant.

The scene was absolute chaos. Glowing lights from slashing wands flashed around them, the early morning sky painted blood red, pierced only by the image of a grotesque green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. Masked, cloaked figures dotted the open meadow in which they had landed like dark statues, reminding Rose of the pictures she'd seen of Death Eaters in her History of Magic textbooks at school. Rose, her heartbeat ringing loudly in her ears, sprang to action immediately, drawing her wand and entering the fray. She felt Scorpius do the same beside her. He conjured up a shield charm just in time for it to block a bolt of sickeningly greet light from hitting them, and tore off in the direction it had come, his eyes wild.

"It's a trap!" gasped Amalia, who was dueling an extremely large masked wizard not far from where the two had landed. "The rebels – they knew – it's an ambush…" She gritted her teeth as her wand slashed in the cool air, and Rose saw that she was badly hurt. Blood oozed out of an open wound from her shoulder, seeping through her Aurors' robes. Rose only spared a moment to check Amalia's injuries while another hooded figure replaced the one she had just stuned. The women both dodged a new bolt of red light and sent their own sparks back the way it had come.

"Somebody needs to apparate back!" Rose gasped, a curse narrowly missing her head as she sent her own spells flying off towards the large masked man.

"Jones already tried, they've set up anti-apparition barriers for as far as we've been able to tell… she got splinched." Rose pictured her instructor, Helen, bleeding out somewhere, missing limbs, and hoped to Merlin she was okay.

"Our only chance is to get to their headquarters and hope to get past the wards and apparate back." Amalia said, grunting as a curse glanced off her injured shoulder.

"Right," Rose said, gritting her teeth as she spotted a makeshift structure beyond where the rebels were fighting, "I'm on it."

"I'll cover you." Amalia said, brandishing her wand like a sword as she sent her battle companion flying off into the brush.

Rose took off running into the fray, sending a flurry of _Stupefys_ over her shoulder every few seconds, judging the situation ahead of her at breakneck speed. From what she could see, there were fortunately enough Aurors that had portkeyed over earlier to cover each of the rebels, and allow her to try and reach their headquarters and send back notice of the attack. The ambush had been well planned, though, and the rebels were well trained. Many of the best Aurors in the department were there, holding up their own, but with great difficulty. It looked to Rose as if there were as many casualties and injuries on their own side as the rebels'.

She narrowly dodged another jolt of green light that smashed into the tree beyond her as she ran, sending its bark flying like shrapnel. Rose felt a sharp pain on her cheek where a piece of wood had hit, scraping at her skin like a knife. When blood trickled down her face and ran into her mouth, hot and sticky, she spat it out and continued on, determined. Amalia followed behind, sending spells off at a speed that Rose could not believe would come from such a small woman.

Rose ran on, growing ever closer to her target. She heard a muffled scream behind her as Amalia fell, her legs trapped in what looked like a complex net. Rose realized suddenly that the trees had been charmed to grab the Auror by their roots, pulling her to the ground as she struggled to free herself.

"Amalia!" She shouted, doubling back.

"Rose – GO!" The woman ordered frantically, pulling at the tree roots as they crawled their way up her body, entrapping her in a full bind. Rose watched on, helplessly.

"You need to go, Rose, I will be fine." She said, gritting her teeth and attempting to draw her wand. Rose pointed her own wand at the tree branch up Amalia's arm and yelling "Reducto!", blasting the wood away from her friend. Two more well placed spells, and the woman's torso was free.

"Thanks, Weasley," she grinned cheekily up from the dirt, "I've got it from here." Rose nodded before she turned and ran, hearing violent cries of _Reducto!_ behind her as she went.

As she neared the structure, Rose realized that it was not a house as she'd originally presumed, but instead a stony cave, with a makeshift lean-to front, covered almost entirely by a cluster of small trees and beyond thick undergrowth. The air shimmered and hummed with magical activity, and Rose knew this must be the source of power for the anti-apparition wards, along with Merlin knows what else. She approached the entrance carefully, treading on the soft, mushy undergrowth silently, marveling that there seemed to be no sentries standing guard.

As soon as the thought came, a rough hand clamped down on Rose's mouth, gripping her head in its thick arm and holding her to the chest that accompanied it.

"Where do you think you're going, little Auror?" a voice said, spitting into her ear. Rose flinched and focused on breathing through her nose, since her air supply was significantly cut off at her mouth.

A rough tug, and she was forced to turn and face her captor. He had removed his mask, and grinned down at her with yellowing teeth behind a grey beard. He looked a bit older than Rose had expected, but the grip he had on her belayed no frailty or weakness. He grabbed a large chunk of her hair, and pulled her face back so that he could look at her.

"You're a pretty one, aren't you?" he said, his hot spit peppering her face like acid rain.

"What have you got there, Rowle?" a cold, sinister voice came from the shadows, near the entrance of the structure.

Rowle grinned back at the voice, tugging Rose by the hair as he did so to show her face to whoever was there. Stars exploded behind her eyes in acute pain.

"Bring her to me."

Rowle shoved her forward to the mouth of the cave, so that she fell to her knees in the wet soil. Mud splattered her robes, and suctioned itself to her legs, limiting her range of movement.

A thin, stark white hand reached for her cheek, and Rose's entire body shuddered as it made contact. It was ice cold, and its skin felt paper-thin. She let out a rattling breath, involuntarily, and the cold voice laughed.

"Well, what have we here?"

Suddenly, Rose was hoisted into the structure, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to its dim lighting before she could glance around. The cave seemed to go on for ages and branch off into various caverns – Rose couldn't tell if it had been magically expanded or if it was naturally this large, just hidden by the shrub and surrounding landscape. There were makeshift cots and beds along one wall, and the other held a whole manner of dark-looking instruments. Rose noted with a choking gasp that deeper into the cavern, there were chains protruding from the rock that seemed to be covered in a thick, red blood.

"It's not much, but it's home," came the cold, mocking voice to her right. Rose turned to see the man's face, as thin and white as his hand had been. Looking into his pale blue eyes, Rose tried to place him, but failed. She had grown up seeing pictures of Death Eaters in her textbooks or in the Daily Prophet, but this man seemed entirely unfamiliar to her. Who could he be? He smiled at her, revealing an eerily pristine set of teeth that contrasted starkly with his drawn, withered face.

"You look rather young to be an Auror, don't you?" he said pleasantly, twirling his wand between his long fingers. "What's your name, girl?"

"R – Rosalie." She said, wary of giving away her true identity. It was power, she'd been told by her father from a young age. She'd never forgotten that lesson. "Rosalie Jones." She felt another pang as she thought of the real Jones, her instructor, bleeding out in the meadow. She hoped the other Aurors were okay, and holding their own.

The man silently watched her, as if he knew exactly what she was doing. He finally sighed, raising one thin eyebrow as he did so.

"Well, _Rosalie Jones,_ this is your lucky day." He laughed cruelly, and Rowle sniggered behind him, reminding Rose that he was still there. "You've just discovered the camp of the last remaining Death Eaters."

* * *

Rose would've gladly welcomed death, if it absolved her of the pain she was now feeling. Her ribs ached from where she had been kicked, and she was sure at least one of the bones was broken. Her left cheek was swollen where she had been hit repeatedly. Worst of all, though, was the slight tingle of pain that remained pulsing through her body - the trace left by repeated use of the Cruciatus Curse. The cruel, cold man had been merciless, torturing her again and again for information about the Aurors and the Ministry, stopping only when she had slipped from consciousness. Rose knew the man had not been fooled by her false name – she did not doubt that his doubt was the only reason she was still alive, that he thought perhaps she may be a more important pawn than some nameless nobody Auror.

Fearfully, Rose knew he was right.

She had been an idiot, rushing into the Death Eaters' den as if she could take on fully fledged adult wizards after only a few months of Auror training. She had been so hellbent on making it out, and on helping her colleagues that she had become blind to her own limitations. Not to mention, her capture was perhaps the very last thing that this mission needed. Her father and her uncle Harry would go ballistic. Rose knew that Ron Weasley could be irrational at times, and she dreaded to think what he would trade these rebels in return for her safety. Ministry information? His own life?

Merlin, she was stupid.

Rose coughed and sputtered up a mouthful of blood from where she lay on the cold stone floor, fully conscious for the first time since her interrogation. She opened her eyes slowly, afraid that the man would see that she was awake, and continue her beating, but she was luckily alone. The chains that had previously lay limp on the cave floor now encircled her own wrists, her own blood mixing and mingling with the blood of whoever had come before.

Rose tried her very best not to think of what must have happened to their previous captives.

Rushed footsteps came suddenly from the darkness, and Rose hasily shut her eyes, disgusted at herself for essentially playing dead. Perhaps, she reasoned with herself groggily, the cold man wouldn't hurt her anymore if he thought she was still unconscious. In her befuddled state, the logic was sound.

With her eyes closed, Rose transported herself to another place. What she wouldn't give to be back in bed with Scorpius, his strong arms around her, rather than these chains. Was it just last night that they'd stayed up switching off between talking and making love?

"Rose!" came a voice, softly, as if from her memory. She allowed herself to bask internally in the way Scorpius said her name, transforming its one syllable into the most beautiful sound in the world. _Rose, Rose, Rose…_

"Rose!" the voice hissed again, urgently. Rose frowned. The way he was saying it now didn't sound beautiful at all. He sounded scared and… "Rose, Merlin, please, wake up now…" A cool hand touched her face, and Rose jolted back to consciousness. She was still in the cave, on the hard stone floor, a constant drip of water beating a rhythm on her thigh. But somehow, Scorpius was there, his face looking pale in the dim light, his eyes worried and scared.

"Rose, thank Merlin," he whispered, pressing his own face to hers, blinking hard. "For a second, I thought…" he trailed off, his eyes hardening. When he spoke again, he seemed to have regained his resolve. "Rose, we've got to get out of here. The Ministry knows, your dad and Harry are coming, but we've got to go _now."_ He set to work at breaking the curse on the chains at Rose's wrists, while she sat, still slightly confused. It took a moment, but slowly she came around.

"Scorpius," she breathed, placing a hand on his face, finding it warm and real. "You're really here."

"Yeah," he smiled, pausing in his task for a moment and taking her face in his hands, "I'm really here."

"How _touching_ ," came a voice over Scorpius' shoulder, sending ice through Rose's veins.

Scorpius was on his feet in an instant, brandishing his wand between Rose and the man.

For a moment, Rose saw a flicker of recognition in the cold man's face, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone. The man smiled, his horrible mouth twisting on his pale face.

"How very much like your father you look," he commented wryly to Scorpius, seeming to forget Rose for the moment. She sat on the floor, paralyzed with fear over what this man would do to Scorpius. "I would recognize a Malfoy anywhere." Scorpius frowned, but said nothing, holding his wand aloft with both hands. Rose could see that his knuckles were turning white.

The man tutted softly. "You, however, do not seem to recognize me." He twirled his wand in his hands again, an annoyingly patronizing habit, as the two of them looked on. "How sad, for Draco and I were once friends at school. You would think he may have mentioned my existence to his only son and heir."

Rose racked her brain for any names her parents had mentioned of their Slytherin classmates, but she had always assumed that most of them were either in Azkaban or dead.

"Theodore Nott." Scorpius spat, his grip on his wand tightening.

"Ah! So daddy dearest _did_ mention me." He laughed; a high, cruel cackle that made Rose's hair stand on end. "I'm surprised he found the time, what with all of the blood traitor nonsense he gets up to nowadays. Helping the Ministry rebuild Hogwarts after the War…" He gave a short bark of laughter, and Rose had the distinct impression that Nott did not actually find the sentiment funny at all.

"My father has dedicated his life to repent for his past mistakes…" Scorpius began, his voice beginning to shake with anger.

"Your father is a COWARD who backed out of what he believed in to save his own ass!" Nott yelled, his perfect teeth gritted in a terrible snarl. His pale eyes were wild with insanity. He drew his wand sharply, and Rose struggled against her chains, helpless. She could not let this wild, terrifying man harm Scorpius.

"STUPEFY!" came another voice from the doorway, and Ron Weasley burst through, his red hair shining like a beacon in the dim lighting. Behind him were what seemed to Rose to be the entirety of the Ministry's Auror Squad.

"Reducto!" Scorpius yelled, though Rose was surprised to see that his wand was pointed at her own hands rather than their captor. Her chains snapped away from the wall, exploding off a bit of the rock floor as they did so, and she smiled up at Scorpius as he helped her up.

"Sectumsempra!"

The smile on Scorpius' face was frozen in a horrible, sickening grin as he crumpled to the ground in Rose's arms, blood seeping through his robes in at least ten different places. Time seemed to stand still. Rose gasped, clutching him to her chest as he spluttered and coughed up blood onto her cheek.

"Rose…" he said, his eyes glossing over.

"No…" Rose breathed, laying him down on the cold floor. A pool of deep red formed beneath his white blond hair, the stark juxtaposition eerily beautiful.

"Scorpius!" She sobbed, frantically pressing her hands to his chest, trying to ebb the flow of his blood. Strong hands reached down to shove her away, and Rose felt herself being knocked aside, her head thumping on the hard ground. As her vision swam, she could just barely see Nott grabbing Scorpius' body and apparating on the spot, taking Malfoy with him.

Rose let out an agonizing scream, trying to stand and regain balance, her head throbbing and dizzying her. A new pair of arms wrapped around her, but somehow she knew in her haze that these were not threatening. Rose crumpled against the body of her father, weeping. The last thing she remembered was being swept up into his arms like he'd carried her as a child. Then her vision went black.

* * *

 **A/N: I know! I'm sorry! You all knew this was coming! This chapter was super super SUPER hard to write, and the first two attempts were just complete rubbish, so please let me know how you feel about it. Next chapter should be up soon! We're on the home straight now!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: HI! Yes, I know, I've been absent for... a year now? I have no real excuses - I sort of lost my mojo for this story unfortunately. But lately I've been visited by plot bunnies, and have decided I won't allow myself to post anything new until LaF is finished... so here I am! Mojo back! Hope this is worth the wait... I have half of the next chapter written already so HOPEFULLY will not be too long a wait, but feel free to bombard me with threats and spam if it's not up soon.**

 **THANK YOU** **to everybody who has stuck with this story.**

 **Disclaimer: Even after all this time, still not mine.**

* * *

 _May 20_ _th_ _, 2026_

* * *

It was cold and rainy the day they buried Scorpius Malfoy.

Of course, the Aurors hadn't been able to recover his body, no matter how tirelessly the team worked to follow Nott, so they didn't actually bury him. It seemed for all intents and purposes that the Death Eater had vanished entirely, taking whatever was left of Scorpius with him. But whether or not he was physically inside of the coffin, it stung all the same.

What looked to be the complete Auror department and at least half of the entire Wizarding community, including all of Rose's own family members, had showed up for the funeral at the grand and intimidating Malfoy Manor. It was a long and tedious ceremony, incredibly stuffy and formal. Rose sat, stock still, throughout the various speakers and poem readings, thinking wryly that Scorpius would've hated them all. One of their former professors, Head of Slytherin house, spoke of his academic successes and his dedication to learning, and Rose frowned, remembering the stubborn, prideful boy who'd once charmed her bookbag to split open every day for a month after she'd gotten a higher mark on her Charms O.W.L. The way these people spoke of Scorpius sucked all the life out of his memory. She remembered him, laughing on his nineteenth birthday, forced to stand on top of a table in the pub and wear that god-awful flowery witch's hat. She thought of him making breakfast in her small, poky little kitchen, wearing her lavender apron. And then Rose stopped thinking altogether before the pain threatened to overcome her.

When the ceremony finally concluded, Rose wordlessly followed her parents and Albus into the large ballroom of the Malfoy Manor, where the family had provided food and beverages for the funeral reception. She spied Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy from a distance, but could not muster the strength or the energy to speak to them. Scorpius had looked so like his father.

Instead, Rose glanced around the ballroom, trying to imagine a young, blond boy growing up in this palace. She recalled what he'd told her of his lonely childhood, and drew a deep breath, feeling oddly suffocated. Making her excuses to her family, Rose quietly escaped the crowded room and wandered up one long, empty hallway, pretending not to see the meaningful looks her parents exchanged as she went.

She found herself in a distant part of the house, where she could only barely make out the faint sounds of chatter in the ballroom. Family portraits of Malfoys past adorned the walls of the narrow passageway, and if Rose had felt more up to it, she would have smiled at the incredibly stuffy atmosphere it presented. If Scorpius were here, he'd surely be mocking the aristocratic surroundings. She could almost hear him making fun of what looked to be his great-grandfather Abraxas' receding hairline, or the way his ancestors all somehow looked as if they had smelled a particularly ripe dungbomb.

Rose came to the last few portraits, passing a rather grand painting of Draco and Astoria Malfoy, and found herself looking up at a blank space on the wall, where she'd expected Scorpius' portrait to be. Rose suddenly felt as if she were robbed. She thought, surely, there'd be at least a painting of him – a ghost of his previous self. She hadn't even realized that she had been searching for it until it inexplicably wasn't there.

"Master Scorpius hated these paintings, miss" A small voice came from Rose's left. She looked down to see a tiny house elf, fingering the edge of her dress nervously.

Rose gave the elf a ghost of a smile, and said "I'll bet he did."

The little elf nodded her head solemnly, looking up into the blank space on the wall with Rose. "Mistress asked Master Scorpius to sit for a portrait many times, miss, but she did not succeed before…" The house elf cut off suddenly, her big eyes welling with tears. Rose hurriedly lead her over to a plush bench made of green velvet, offering the elf a tissue.

"Thank you, miss…" the elf said, blowing her nose rather loudly. "Patsy is very sorry, miss, that you had to see her like this."

"That's okay," Rose said kindly, declining the tissue when Patsy offered to give it back. "Did you know Scorpius very well? He once told me that his best friends were House Elves growing up."

Patsy smiled a watery smile up at Rose, and patted her hand. "Master Scorpius," she said through her tears, "was a wonderful, kind wizard."

Rose released a shaky breath, holding Patsy's small hand tightly. "I know." She said simply.

* * *

To everyone's great surprise, Rose continued to show up for work as usual. Her father tried to speak with her, to urge her to take time off, but Rose was doggedly determined. She searched tirelessly, forgoing her Auror training to work with the more advanced Aurors in locating Nott and his followers, putting in long hours at the office and oftentimes sleeping there. Nobody said anything about going back to training, rather accepting her into their fold of Aurors, and for that, Rose was glad. She suspected her Uncle Harry was behind it, but for once, she didn't mind the nepotism.

Though on the outside she seemed to be holding herself together, Rose's insides were in turmoil. She knew her family were worried for her, knew they could see through the façade she was so carefully crafting. Rose was careful not to go home at normal hours anymore, for fear that she would have to speak to Albus. Her cousin would surely want to talk about the incident, talk about her feelings, and it was all Rose could do to concentrate on getting through the day.

She couldn't trust her emotions anymore, so she simply discarded them.

The nights were the worst, though. Rose dreaded the days she was sent home from the office by either her father or Pitt, who'd taken over as her direct report while Jones healed from her splinching. Those nights, she spent sleeplessly tossing and turning, forbidding herself to cry. Forbidding herself to feel. For Rose feared, if she relented and let out the waterworks, she may never stop.

It felt like she was constantly walking around with a hole in her chest. She didn't cry, but she didn't laugh either. She rarely smiled. She ate – sometimes, she slept – sometimes, and she worked. Merlin, did she work.

It was sometime in the beginning of August when Rose finally admitted what the other Aurors had known for a month - that Nott was nowhere to be found. The Ministry had exhausted all leads, had worked themselves tirelessly, but it seemed as if the dark wizard had erased himself from the globe. Her Uncle Harry made himself content with wiping out the camp that they'd discovered in May, and chasing down and imprisoning all of the rebel followers they could find, including Rowle. The day they'd held his trial, he'd laughed and spit in Rose's face as she testified against him.

And yet he did not reveal Nott's whereabouts.

Watching dispassionately as they carried him off to Azkaban, Rose felt for the first time as if their mission had failed. She realized they'd done all they could.

That night, she'd finally allowed herself to cry.

* * *

 _August 16th, 2026_

* * *

There were voices at her bedroom door.

"Rose? Rosie? Are you in there?"

"Of course she's in there, Lily, she's been in there for two weeks."

The door creaked open, and Rose squinted against the bright beam of light cast across her bed.

"Merlin's pants, it smells in here... when's the last time you bathed?"

Rose rubbed her bleary eyes to see her cousin Lily, standing over the bed with her hands curled into determined fists, one on either hip. Her straight, dark red hair hung over one shoulder as she tilted her head, looking down at Rose with marked disdain.

"You smell awful," she repeated.

Rose threw a pillow at her head, which Lily dodged easily. Damn Quidditch reflexes.

"Er…Lil, why don't you just leave Rose alone?" Al hedged from the doorway.

"We've left her alone long enough, _Albus,"_ Lily said, flicking on the lights with a swish of her wand, causing Rose to groan in despair. "Now it's time to rejoin the living world." She winced slightly at the callous phrase, but carried on nonetheless.

"Rose," she said, softly, sitting gingerly on the bed. "I know you're going through an awful, _awful_ time right now, but you need to learn how to live again, to live with this pain. Malf- Scorpius wouldn't have wanted you to waste away your life in bed, moping after him."

At once, Rose silently teared up, staring down at her hands.

"Rosie? Are you okay?" Al joined the girls on the bed.

"It just…" Rose was shocked to hear how hoarse her voice was from lack of use. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to anybody at all. "It just hurts _so much."_ She breathed, angrily swiping at her eyes.

Lily folded her into a hug, despite earlier protests at the older girl's smell. "I know," she said softly, patting Rose's greasy, matted curls. "I know."

They stayed like that for a long time. Albus, feeling slightly uncomfortable with all of the crying, busied himself making a strong pot of tea, delivering it to Rose with a large block of chocolate and a stong pepper-up potion. Rose accepted all of this gratefully.

Lily ran a bath for her, and after spending a long hour in the tub, Rose felt almost okay again. Not good, or normal by any means, but almost okay.

It was a start.

"Rosie…" Lily began cautiously, "I know you've only just emerged from your cave-" Albus shot her a look here, "And I don't want to overwhelm you, but there's a ceremony at the St. Mungo's tonight. They've done an absolutely barmy thing and named an entire ward after my father, and the whole family is going to be there. I know it'd mean a lot to Dad if you came to support him."

"Only if you want to." Albus said quickly.

"Oh-" Rose said softly, imagining the people there, curious and staring with their questioning eyes.

"She doesn't have to come," Albus told Lily firmly, "We don't want to overwhelm her."

"I'll come." Rose said with finality.

"Ro-"

"I want to come," she said, crossing her arms. "I'm a part of this family, aren't I?" She forced herself to smile. Neither Lily or Albus looked entirely convinced, but they didn't press the matter.

"Okay," Albus said, putting one arm around his cousin. "Okay."

* * *

Upon entering the event room at St. Mungo's, however, Rose almost immediately regretted leaving her bed.

The dress she'd borrowed from Lily hung off her skinny frame, withered by two weeks in bed of not eating properly. The heels she'd dug out from the back of her closet were rubbing on her little toes, and people were definitely staring.

"Now I know how your dad feels," she muttered darkly to Albus, who was guiding her through the room, his arm linked to hers. She tried, and failed, to ignore the wake of whispering people behind her.

"It's just because they know about your involvement in the case," he gently whispered back. "No other reason."

Rose nodded, feeling shaky.

She grabbed a flute of Elderflower wine from the tray of a passing waiter and downed it quickly as Albus looked on, his eyebrows raised.

"Careful," was all he said.

Rose plastered on a smile when she greeted her family, who all immediately enveloped her into massive hugs, reminding her of why she'd been avoiding them. Only her mother, who softly rested one hand on her daughter's cheek, saying briefly "Let's talk later," seemed to understand her reluctance to be touched.

Rose dutifully smiled at her cousins' jokes, chatted with various family friends, and acted the part of a well-adjusted, functioning family member honoring her Uncle's achievements. Only Al, whose intelligent green eyes watched her closely through the night, seemed to see through her carefully constructed façade.

When it was time for her Uncle Harry to make a speech, the room quieted. She listened to him briefly speak of the War, which he so rarely spoke of these days, and of the brave Witches and Wizards who fought beside him in destroying Voldemort. When he began to speak of those who had lost their lives for the cause, though, Rose slipped out of the room, feeling slightly nauseated. Al watched her go, nodding as their eyes met briefly.

Rose found herself on a balcony, taking in the fresh, crisp air. The night felt heavy with the smell of late summer rain, and Rose leaned over the balustrade, feeling as if she could breathe properly for the first time in months. Her eyes slipped close as she leaned further, catching one raindrop on her cheek.

"Hey! What are you doing!?"

Rose straightened, dumbly turning her head towards the male voice that came from behind her. A wizard in dark navy dress robes stood at the entrance to the balcony, staring at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"I wasn't going to jump." She said stupidly.

He walked over to her, still looking at her as if she were barmy. "Are you sure?" he said, looking down at her.

Rose suddenly recognized him. He'd been a Ravenclaw in her cousin James' year, and Head Boy. She remembered distinctly how the girls in her dorm had agonized for hours over his good looks.

"Simon Archibald?" She tested, unsure.

He faltered, slightly, peering down at her as if trying to place her. "Rose Weasley?" he finally said, a hint of a smile on his face."

"Yeah…" Rose suddenly felt fifteen again, awkward and gangly. "Hi."

"Hi," he breathed down at her, his blue eyes soft and kind. "You okay?"

Simon had unknowingly asked her the one question Rose had been asking herself all night. She wondered if he could take the truthful answer. Rose laughed at the thought of telling him, and flushed when she saw him looking back at her, his brow set quizzically, but a smile playing on his lips nonetheless. In that moment, wondering whether or not she was _okay,_ Rose realized she had a choice. Lily had essentially said it earlier, but she, Rose, hadn't cottoned on fully until this moment, _here._ Was she okay? No, she wasn't. But would she be, someday? What would Scorpius have wanted?

She realized Simon was still waiting for an answer.

"Yes…" Rose began slowly, smiling her first real smile in months. It was a small smile, a cautious one, but it thawed a part of her heart she thought had permanently frozen over. "I think I'm going to be."

* * *

 **A/N: Let me know what you think :) And I'll see you soon!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Can't believe I'm updating so soon! I'm just so excited about this story again, I didn't want to wait! The time frames are getting a bit jumbled now that we're nearing the end, so just for reference, this picks up from where we left off in Chapter 11.**

 **A/N: JKR owns, I do not _._**

* * *

 _June 2nd, 2029_

 _Present Day_

* * *

Rose entered her grandparents' home, feeling as if she were about to vomit. All of the nerve she'd built up after the conversation with her mother had flown out the door as soon as Hermione had left. Rose would have happily crawled back under her covers and stayed there for another thirty years or so, had it not been for one Albus Potter.

So here she was, dressed in the dress robes her mother had picked out for her, wearing those same heels she'd worn on James' birthday – for _strength,_ she told herself, not because a certain blonde had said she looked nice in them.

Her engagement party was in full swing by the time she arrived.

A loud cheer went up as she fell out of the fireplace in into the sitting room, Al trailing behind her. She scanned the area quickly, overwhelmed at the volume of people in one small- though magically enhanced- room.

"There's our ickle brideykins!" her cousin Fred called. Rose flipped him the bird, not caring who saw.

"Hi, oh hello, how are you? Hi…" Rose made her way through masses of relatives with varying shades of red hair, all wanting to wish her well.

She couldn't see the one person she sought, however.

"Does anyone know where Simon is?" she asked, looking around at the crowded living room.

"Waheyyy!" Fred said, throwing his hands up and sloshing his drink all over his sister, who sat next to him, in the process.

"Frederick!" Roxy called, punching her older brother, hard, on his arm.

Rose rolled her eyes and left the room in search of more helpful relatives.

"Have you seen Simon?" she asked her nan, who was putting the finishing touches on a glorious looking roast dinner in the kitchen. Rose tried to ignore the nauseating feeling of guilt that threatened to overcome her when she saw how much effort her family had put into this party. A banner hung from above the door, spelling out what Rose thought should say _Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Archibald!_ but the shimmering letters on the banner were furling in on themselves, and it now read _Con-tulatio- Mr. and Mr- -bald!_ There was a large and slightly lopsided cake entirely covered with red and pink roses sitting on the dining table. It was adorned with a bride-and-groom cake topper that'd been used for Weasley weddings as long as Rose could remember, and had arguably seen better days. In the heat of the kitchen, the plastic bride's smile looked as if it were melting off her face. Rose found it worryingly apt.

"Oh Rosie, dear, don't you look lovely," her grandmother said, putting her hands on either side of Rose's face and beaming up at her. "You're going to make the most beautiful bride."

"Thanks, nan…" Rose said, not quite meeting her eyes, "But do you know where Simon-?"

"Hello, darling," an arm circled around her from behind, and Rose turned to find herself face to face with her fiancé for the first time in a week. "I missed you," he said congenially.

Her nan gave a little titter, and hurriedly exited the room.

 _Merlin_ , he was good-looking, Rose thought a bit sadly. Good looking, and respectful, and kind hearted. And safe.

 _And wrong,_ her heart told her.

"Simon," she breathed, biting her lip nervously. "Can we – let's talk?"

He gazed down at her for a long while, taking in what Rose knew must be guilt written all over her face. He nodded, once, and she bit her lip, trying to find the words to say. After a long pause, Simon seemed to take pity on her. Wordlessly, he led her outside. They walked to the edge of the yard, coming to rest under the tree she'd kissed Scorpius under just a week ago. Had it been only just last Saturday? It felt like an eternity to Rose.

They sat under the tree, staring at the water, just as she'd done with Scorpius. Yet the differences were marked. With Scorpius, there had been fire and electricity between them. There had been unspoken words and history – too much history.

With Simon, there was comfort, yes. But that was it.

Rose wondered how to put into words what she felt.

"You don't want to go through with the wedding."

She looked up, shocked. Had he said that, or had she?

Simon was looking down at her with a gentle smile, though wry and slightly twisted. Rose's immediate reaction was to placate, to assure him that she _did_ still want to marry him, that she loved him. He was so good, and he had truly loved her in all the ways she'd once needed to be loved. But then she remembered her mother's words.

 _Sometimes, hurting somebody now, no matter how bad it may be, can save more heartache in the long run._

Rose was tired of pretending, tired of ignoring her feelings. She was tired of being pleasant, nice, _rational_ Rose.

"I don't want to go through with the wedding." She said, hardly daring to believe she'd spoken the words aloud.

Simon sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair, angrily, but then seemed to control himself. Even now, he was polite, measured, cool, calculated.

"Okay." He said simply.

"Look, Simon, I'm sorr-"

"It's fine, Rose. Really." He said, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else. "To be honest, I can't say I'm all that shocked, after these last few months. I'm just –"

He paused, taking a ragged, deep breath. Rose watched as several emotions flickered across his face - hurt, frustration, anger. All at once, he grabbed her shoulders, and pressed his lips to hers. Rose stood stock still as he worked his feelings into the kiss, and felt one tear slip down her cheek when he backed away, looking down at the floor. When he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper.

"if it's all right with you, I'm going to take off." They stood, awkwardly avoiding the others' gaze. Before he left, however, he touched her cheek, once. He looked at her, his kind blue eyes uncharacteristically sad.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it. She looked at the man who'd brought her out of the most emotionally damaging part of her life, the man who had made her feel safe again – whole again- and finally let go.

It had taken until now for her to realize it, but Rose was finally ready to feel safe and whole all on her own.

* * *

Rose made her way back into the house after Simon left, trying to work out the best way of telling her family that the wedding was off.

She found the kitchen empty, save for a blonde girl who looked around Lily's age. Just as Rose was about to ask who she was, the girl looked up at her with her big, blue eyes.

"So," she said, sitting down at the dining table, braiding her long hair casually over one shoulder as she glanced at Rose. "You don't want to marry my brother."

There was a beat.

"Annette…" Rose started, turning to the younger girl. Simon must have found her before he'd left. Rose wondered, in that case, why his sister was still here.

"Annie." She corrected with a grimace.

"Annie," Rose began again, her hands twisting in her lap, "It's much more complicated than that."

"Look, I get it," Annie said with a wry smile, facing Rose, "He's a perfect gentleman, and I know he's good-looking and all, but he's dead boring." She twisted the end of her braid thoughtfully around her index finger. "He needs a compliant wife, one whose great idea of an adventure includes raising two-point-five kids and attending Ministry balls." She looked over at Rose, who was shell-shocked into silence. "You don't seem like the kind of wife to sit idle, Rose Weasley."

Rose was about to retort that Annie didn't know her at all, when she realized the younger girl was right. Mrs. Archibald must have been passing along her scathing reviews of Rose's domestication, or lack thereof – _Fiona_ , Rose corrected herself, but then _oh, the hell with that._

"There's nothing wrong with kids, or balls." Rose finally said when she'd found her voice.

"No, there's not," Annie smiled, a sly grin that allowed Rose to see why she was reputed to be the wayward younger sibling. "If that's what you're into."

Rose was silent again.

"He'll get over it, by the way," the younger girl said, undoing the plait she had just made. "He was in love with another witch before he met you – the same thing, placing her on a pedestal, making out the relationship to be something it's not – but he moved on, obviously. He'll be fine again."

Rose was about to remark that perhaps Annie was being a bit rude, when the younger girl turned to Rose, her eyes wide. "I don't mean to diminish your relationship, sorry" she said, sounding suddenly genuine, "Just trying to help."

She left, grabbing a bottle of firewhisky from the table as she went, and taking a large swig.

Rose wondered how this incredibly blunt, mischievous, annoyingly insightful girl was related to Simon at all. Annette certainly hadn't been what Rose was expecting.

She pressed the palm of her hand to her aching forehead, hard, and let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Right," she said, determinedly, and left to go and face her family.

* * *

It was creeping into the early hours of the next morning by the time Rose arrived back at her flat with Albus. When they flooed in, she sunk deep into the sofa, while she let Al hurry around and make a strong pot of tea and gather what looked to be all of the chocolate in the house.

When he joined her on the sofa, she promptly ripped into the pile of chocolate frogs he'd assembled, shoving one in her mouth and quickly checking the card – a habit from her childhood she'd never quite broken.

"I've got Dumbledore again," she sighed frustratedly, though she'd stopped collecting years ago.

The wizened old former Headmaster of Hogwarts winked up at her from behind his half-moon glasses, and Rose felt her eyes welling up with tears inexplicably. She shoved another chocolate frog in her mouth, and felt the first tear drop down her cheek.

Suddenly, she was sobbing.

Albus wordlessly wrapped her in his arms, saying nothing, but petting the top of her head lovingly.

They stayed like that for hours, wrapped in a comforting, familial embrace. Then, as suddenly as it'd begun, it stopped. Rose dried her tears on the sleeve of her robes, and stood, her knees shaky and sore from the cramped position she'd been in.

"Right," she said, clearing her throat. "I've – I've got something to do."

Albus blinked up at her slowly, his sleep deprived brain functioning slower than usual.

Rose didn't wait for an answer, but sent a sure, strong smile at her cousin, and stepped into the flames. She tossed the green floo powder around her and yelled, with more conviction than she felt, "Malfoy Manor!"

It was only as she was whizzing through the Floo Network that Rose worried the Malfoys had some sort of floo barrier against certain people – her family did, so it'd only be fair to assume that Scorpius' would do the same. However, she stepped out of the rather grand, marble fireplace on the other end, and unmistakably found herself in the sitting room of the Malfoy estate. She felt a small tingle at knowing she had been added to the list of accepted guests.

The grandfather clock on the opposite wall told Rose that it was half six, much too early to be making social calls. Feeling rather foolish and as if she should perhaps have sent an owl ahead, she wrung her hands, looking around the room nervously, feeling as if perhaps she should just turn around and go back the way she came. She was just about to do so, when she heard a small voice greet her from the door.

"How can Patsy be helping you miss?" The little house elf bowed so deep, her long nose nearly touched the floor.

Rose wanted to laugh with relief.

"Patsy," she said, crossing to the tiny elf. "Is Scorp- erm, Master Scorpius at home?"

"Yes, Miss. Would Miss like me to fetch Master?"

"Please."

The small elf bobbed her head and exited the room swiftly. Rose put one hand on her chest, trying to still her racing heart.

There were double doors at the end of the sitting room, and she crossed the room and stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air. It was a cold day for June, and the gardens of the Malfoy Manor were covered in a light dew. Rose scanned the expansive property with her eyes, taking in the manicured lawns and artfully pruned shrubbery. It made such a stark contrast to the chaotic gnome-infested gardens she was used to at the Burrow and her own childhood home. She wondered if she could ever get used to living in a place as grand as this. She thought not.

Rose was just questioning whether or not she should go, feeling absurdly silly for coming here at such an irregular calling hour, still in her dress robes from the night before, when she heard footsteps approaching behind her.

She turned.

His hair was still rumpled from sleep, and his eyes had dark circles beneath them, but he looked in this moment the most like himself Rose had seen since the return from his capture. His eyes were bright and alert, blinking slowly as if unsure if she was actually standing before him, but his features remained a cool marble. His defenses were up, she knew. He didn't trust her not to break his heart again.

"Rose?" Scorpius said, the little wrinkle Rose loved making an appearance in his brow, "What are you doing here?" He moved towards her, slightly, stepping out onto the garden and into a direct ray of sunlight that lit his hair like a halo.

She stared up at him, her breath knocked out of her lungs just from the sight of him. She knew she must be making a fool of herself by gaping, but decided she didn't care. She walked towards him, content to just be near.

When a full minute had gone by, she realized she needed to say something – anything.

"I've just ended my engagement," Rose said slowly, tasting the words as she said them, and finding herself unexpectedly sad at the prospect of a life without Simon. He had, for all his faults, been a good boyfriend, and would forevermore be a part of her.

Scorpius looked down at her, his eyes slowly coming alive with unadultered joy. He reached for her, on impulse. Seeing his reaction only made what Rose was about to do all the more difficult.

"I didn't come here to tell you I want to be with you," she said quietly, grabbing his hands before he could cup her face and kiss her. If he kissed her, she didn't know if she could follow through as planned. The shock registered in his face, his features turning to marble again, breaking Rose's heart. "Please, let me explain," she begged.

He nodded once, curtly, unable to fully mask his hurt.

Rose glanced down at her fingers, weaved between his long, slim ones. A part of her felt so right with him here, and wanted to throw caution to the wind, and snog him silly. But another part, a louder part, told her to wait.

"I promised to spend my life with Simon, and I didn't take that lightly," she began, her breath forming a cloud in the brisk morning air. "And you and I – perhaps we were in love, once, but it's been three years. I've grown, and I've changed, and so have you. Too much has happened for us to just take off where we left this, all those years ago.

"What are you saying?" he asked quietly, staring at their intertwined fingers.

She touched his cheek, lightly. He looked up, their eyes meeting. His eyes were a light grey, wide and full of hurt. "I'm asking for some time," she replied, begging him silently to understand.

He was frowning. His white-blonde hair hung in his eyes as he looked down at her, and Rose had to physically restrain herself from running her fingers through his silky locks and giving into her every temptation.

"I love you, Rose." He said, his long fingers sweeping up to hold her chin. They were so close now, their breath intermingling in the crisp air. "I know what I want, and I escaped from hell to get it." He stepped back suddenly, running his hands through his hair in a frustrated gesture. Rose watched him sadly. Finally, he sighed and looked back up at her.

"Please understand," she said, biting her lip in worry.

"I do," he finally replied, drawing her into a hug. It felt warm and safe, and not entirely platonic, but Rose closed her eyes and breathed in his intoxicating scent, feeling for the first time since the night before that things were as they should be. Scorpius kissed the top of her head silently.

"Thank you," she breathed into his chest.

They stayed like that for several minutes, Rose enjoying the feeling of just being close to him - touching him. She knew she would not have this chance for a while, and so she savored the sensation.

"I want to spend my life with you, Rose," she could feel his body rumbling against her as he spoke, and a warmth spread through her at his words. "I've waited for three years, I can wait a little longer."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 _June through August 2029_

 _Present Day_

* * *

For the first time since joining the force, Rose decided to treat herself to an extended holiday. A proper one, with portkeys and everything. She owled her cousin Dominique, who lived in Paris with her husband Tomas, and was pleased to find her cousin was more than willing to house Rose for however long she wished.

The first few weeks in Paris, Rose busied herself with visiting various museums and landmarks. She spent her nights with Dom and Tomas – frequenting trendy bars and, once, at Dom's insistence, even the Moulin Rouge for a show. Rose felt herself come alive again in the city. She laughed louder, smiled brighter, felt deeper than she had in years.

And yet, she missed him.

Scorpius was everywhere she looked – in the aristocratic look of the portraits at the Louvre, and the cheeky, arrogant schoolboys she saw skiving off of school and smoking fags in Montmartre. At the market on the square, she swore she heard his laugh. Every wonder she saw, every incredible pastry she devoured, every happy couple that passed, she missed him more.

A lazy Saturday found Rose wandering the banks of the Seine, watching as the street artists painted their spectacular paintings, the colors of the river jumping off their canvasses like no magic she'd ever seen. She purchased a chocolate-filled croissant from a local patisserie, and wandered over to a bench, the warm morning sun shrouded by a tree whose leaves were turning a spectacular golden color, reminding Rose that Autumn was only just around the corner.

It should haven, by all accounts, a perfect, peaceful morning. And yet, on that glorious day, Rose knew in her heart of hearts, that while running away to Paris had been for all intents and purposes, quite lovely, that she wouldn't find her happiness here. Not like this. She had left a bit of herself home in England.

And so, a month into her holiday, she arranged an early portkey home.

It only took an hour or so after she landed to find Albus in the flat they shared, and needle him for the address of the one place she knew she needed to go. He'd been reluctant to give her the information initially, but Rose was nothing if not persuasive. As she was heading out of the door, Al called after her.

"You'd better not break his heart!"

Rose rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. Sometimes Al could be such a _Hufflepuff._

* * *

When she arrived at the beautiful brick building in South Kensington, Rose suddenly felt her heart in her throat. It was a quiet street, pedestrian and far enough away from the hubbub of London to feel rather homely and safe. It was, she noted with faint surprise, a generally Muggle area of town.

Ringing the buzzer for number ten, she was shocked when his voice came through the intercom system, crackly and garbled.

"It's on the top floor," she thought he might've said before the door buzzed and clicked open, though it sounded more like "son da -op -loor". Cautiously, Rose pushed the front door and began to climb the stairs. Number ten's door was slightly ajar, and she could hear him moving around inside of the flat. Through the gap in the door, she could see into the space, where he was busy moving around some heavy-looking boxes. His hair was a mess, and he still looked rather thin, though there was a new life to him that she hadn't seen since before his capture. He flicked his wand lazily at the window, and its curtains flung themselves open, bathing him in midmorning light.

Rose's heart was beating rather fast now.

"Sorry for the mess, mum," Scorpius called when she knocked once on the door frame, needlessly. "I wasn't expecting you until at least noon-" the words faltered when he looked up and saw Rose standing in the doorway.

"You're... not my mum," was all he said.

"No," Rose replied, feeling rather foolish, still standing just outside his home, "I'm not."

It took a beat for him to catch up with himself, while he just stared at her, as if he couldn't quite believe she was there in front of him.

"Can I come in?" Rose pressed gently.

"Yes, of course!" Scorpius said, an uncharacteristic flush gracing his high cheekbones. He ushered her in, then wrung his hands a bit as he looked around.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said, smiling wryly at her, "but I haven't got anywhere for you to sit yet." He gestured to the odd bits of furniture in the living room, and Rose saw, to her amusement, that he was indeed correct.

"That's all right," she replied, gingerly perching on the edge of a moving box.

"I've got a kettle, though, if you'd like some tea. Though... I haven't any milk…" he frowned.

"Tea would be lovely," Rose said, smiling shyly.

Scorpius immediately busied himself with the kettle, his back turned to her as she took in the flat. It was spacious and had grand Victorian features, including a cozy looking fireplace and large bay windows which created a rather pleasant, airy effect. There were boxes covering the wooden flooring. Rose glanced inside of one and bit back a smile. It was full of his old school textbooks.

Her attention was brought back to the man in the room as he handed her a steaming mug of black tea. Rose sipped it, only wincing slightly at its bitter taste. Scorpius had a cup of his own, and seemed to be experiencing the same disappointment.

"Sorry the tea's rubbish," he said, staring into his mug.

Rose placed her mug on the kitchen counter top carefully as he watched her every move. She stepped towards him, experimentally, and his grey eyes seemed to flicker with a fire that nearly blinded Rose, it was so bright.

"I didn't come for the tea," she said, her voice surprisingly clear and calm.

"No," he replied.

Rose smiled, looking up at him. There were so many words that she wanted to say, and yet she could not find the perfect ones. She didn't have the capacity to put her feelings into a coherent sentence, so instead she grabbed his hand, and threaded her fingers through his, wordlessly.

He seemed to understand.

"We don't have to jump right into this," he said, rubbing a circle on her palm with his thumb. "We can… take things slow. Get to know each other again."

Rose sighed and leaned into him. His hand came up to gently cup her cheek, and she closed her eyes at his touch.

"I've realized," he continued, "that you were right. As much as it pains me to admit." He gave a low chuckle. "I know that while I loved you, the old Rose, you're a different person now. And so am I." His long fingers toyed with a stray red curl at her temple. "And while I think loving the old Rose definitely earns me some credit-" he sent his trademark smirk her way "-I would love, really love, to get to know you, as you are now."

He gulped when she continued to stay silent, blinking up at him with wide eyes.

"If that's okay with you." He said quickly.

Rose's face split into a grin, and she laughed softly. She stepped back, extending her hand fully to him.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Rose Weasley." Her blue eyes sparkled up at him, and he swallowed thickly before returning the gesture.

"Scorpius Malfoy," he said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"It's very nice to meet you, Scorpius," she said. And then, because she couldn't help herself, she wrapped her long arms around his neck, and kissed him. She kissed him for who they'd been, and kissed him for who they'd become. She kissed him for the past they shared and for the future she desperately wanted. And when she was done kissing him for all of those reasons, she kissed him again, just because.

She would have kept kissing him, for several more minutes, hours, or days, had they not been suddenly brought back to earth by an outside intrusion.

"Ahem," came a sound from the doorway. The two of them snapped their heads around to see Astoria Malfoy looking slightly embarrassed, but mostly amused at catching her son kissing a woman in his new home.

"Should I come back?" She asked, one eyebrow raised in an expression that immediately reminded Rose of her son.

He laughed, genuine joy lighting up his features with reckless abandon. "Not at all mum, come on in. You remember Rose, don't you?"

"Miss Weasley," Astoria said, nodding kindly at the younger woman. And then, because she enjoyed tormenting her only child, she added, "I expect we'll be seeing much more of you around here in the future."

Scorpius immediately colored, and gave an agonized groan. " _Mum…"_ he said, his hands running through his hair, making it stick up all over his head.

For her part, Rose just smiled, and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. She glanced at Scorpius, her eyes shining sofly, then looked back at the elder woman.

"Yes," she said simply, "I expect you will."

* * *

 **A/N: Short, but sweet. More to come sooooon :)**


	16. Epilogue

_Two Years Later_

 _July 2031_

* * *

The smell in the Diggory ward was just the same as Rose remembered - a clinical, chlorine scent with hints of fried magical spark that stung her nostrils. Looking down at the occupant of the crisp, white bed, she frowned deeply.

Scorpius was fast asleep, knocked out by whatever the mediwitch had given him, his pale skin matching the linen bedsheets, the scars from years past highlighted on his high cheekbones.

It was just a small side effect from the cursed dark artifacts they'd been hunting on their latest mission with the Auror office, and his healers had said he'd be fine. She repeated this mantra, willing herself not to slip back into the memories of years past, finding him passed out in a similar room to this one. Rose pinched herself to retain her sense of reason.

"I can find you a spare bed if you'd like, Auror Weasley," the attending healer offered kindly.

"I'm all right, thank you," she replied, gazing down at her boyfriend of two years. "If you don't mind, I'd just like to stay with him for a little while longer." Rose blushed, though she knew she had no cause to be embarrassed.

"I'll leave you," the healer said with a soft smile.

When she was gone, Rose leant over the bed and brushed Scorpius' light coloured hair back from his eyes. It was growing a bit long, she noted.

"You prat," she softly scolded, with no real hint of malice. "You're not supposed to go injuring yourself."

She sighed, subconsciously rubbing light circled on his cheekbones with her fingertips. Scorpius' eyes moved under his closed lids, and he let out a soft sigh in his slumber. Rose smiled.

"I'm not ready for you to leave me yet," she said, feeling rather choked up and emotionally exhausted after the long day. "We've got so many more things we need to do together." She laughed, looking out the window as she spoke. "I want to move in with you, and start a life with you... and you haven't even asked me to marry you yet!" She snorted, feeling ridiculous. There was a beat as she watched the sun set outside the hospital window, before she felt movement stirring beneath her hand.

"I didn't want to pressure you," came Scorpius' voice, so softly. Rose jumped, the heat rushing to her cheeks as she realised he was awake and had heard her little rant.

"Scorpius, I-" She floundered for a moment as he watched her with amused eyes. She hit him gently on the arm when he made no attempt to hide his smirk.

"Can you reach into that pocket over there?" He asked, suddenly serious, nodding to his discarded Aurors robes hung haphazardly over a chair.

Rose padded over to the robes and reached into the deep pocket, her hand finding a small box within. Her heart seemed to cease beating in one swift moment as she drew it out to see a miniature black ring box.

"I planned on doing this better," he sighed form the bed, scooting himself so that he sat upright, his grey gaze steady and unwaveringly trained on her. Rose looked up at him, eyes wide.

"Well, open it," he said, suddenly shy. Rose slowly opened the box to reveal a sparkling white diamond ring. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Rose," he began, his eyes gauging her expression carefully. "I know we said we'd go slowly, but the past two years with you have been more than I ever thought-"

"Yes." Rose said, meeting his eyes. A grin was rapidly spreading across her face.

"I- sorry?"

"Yes, I'll marry you." She said, flinging herself on top of him, arms wide. He winced in slight pain and Rose made to back away, but Scorpius grabbed her to hold her firmly in place.

"You didn't let me finish," he admonished, smirking up at her. "I had a whole speech planned, including a list of ten reasons why I'd make an excelled husband, in case you needed convincing."

Rose felt as if her face may break from grinning so widely.

"Tell me later," she said, snuggling into his arms. "We've got all the time in the world."

Scorpius said nothing, but replied by kissing her firmly and soundly.

* * *

 **A/N: THE END!**

 **A million and more thanks to those who have stuck with me through this story! It's my first complete multi-chapter fic, and I genuinely could not have done it without the encouragement from all of my readers. I never dreamed I would have had the positive reaction that I have had, and every one of your comments has warmed my heart (even the one with constructive criticisms - I need those too!)**

 **I'm currently working on TWO multi-chap fics (another reason I've been so lax in updating LaF lately, sorry guys): one Scorpius and Rose with CC cannon (saw the play a few months ago, by the way. Anyone else? Let me know. I have THOUGHTS) and a Maurader-era one as well. Both are going to be much longer than LaF, with more character and plot development. I will hopefully begin uploading in the New Year, but I'd like to have at least a ten-chapter head start before uploading so that updates come a bit more frequently.**

 **Thanks again for reading, leave a comment, and have a LOVELY holiday season, everyone!**

 **MD xxxxx**


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